


Tomorrow Is Now

by runningwithshadows



Category: Annie (1982)
Genre: Annie - Freeform, F/M, groliver
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-10-17 12:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17560010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwithshadows/pseuds/runningwithshadows
Summary: A development of the slow but steady relationship between wealthy businessman Oliver Warbucks and his personal secretary Miss Grace Farrel, featuring everyone's favourite redheaded orphan and her shaggy dog.





	1. Chapter 1

Life at the Warbucks mansion was lived robotically.

For the billionaire, this seemed to be the only logical way of life. Every day was the same, save for trivially minor details, and each day was full of scheduled ups and downs. It was just the way that it was, and it seemed to work out just fine. Money was made, money was lost, more money was made - the purpose of each and every day was making a profit. The depression was crippling, it was clear now that the Roaring Twenties were far behind them all, but as long as the household stuck to the same routine that they'd lived by for so many years, they would make it through. Possibly even come out on top.

There could be no flaws in the system and no weak links in their iron chain. If an employee or business partner couldn't carry their weight and they happened to cause even the  _slightest_ of problems, they would be terminated without a second thought. Oliver Warbucks was a loyal man to the employees that earned his respect, but otherwise he held no reservations. He was selfish, that was the only way that he was able to make his money.

These things didn't even keep him up at night. Very few of his employees were long term, and he knew it. They weren't people to him, they were paychecks. Yes, he was more familiar with his household staff and employees that worked from the office in his home, but Warbucks had factories all over the United States, how could he possibly know the names and stories of each and every one of his  _hundreds_ of employees.

It wasn't his job. The staff that tended to come and go were the ones of lesser importance. Still necessary, mind you, but not quite important enough to even get a meeting with the billionaire himself before they were hired. He was the man standing at the very top, he couldn't be bothered to worry about the more trivial aspects of his job, he had his sights set on the bigger picture. Besides, he had employees for just about everything - hiring  _other_ employees was currently the job of others. Such as his blissfully devoted personal secretary Miss Grace Farrell. She hired the majority of his household staff, and did just about everything else for him as well, including remind him take his migraine pills.

She handled her own job, of course, as well as the majority of the other staff's, and she could easily do most of Oliver's as well. She was the Miss Congeniality of the mansion, and no one would have it any other way. Mr. Warbucks knew this, as there was no way that her competency could be ignored, but he chose to remain rather apathetic and reward her only with an appropriately high salary.

There were very few employees at the mansion that had been there as long, or longer, than Miss Farrell. She was the only secretary that hadn't been fired, the only one who hadn't cracked under the pressure, the only one who could somehow manage to match Mr. Warbucks' work ethic and hold her ground when his temper flared high - as it often did. Quite frankly, she was the only secretary that Oliver could tolerate, even if they bickered from time to time and didn't always see eye to eye.

Though he'd never admit it, Oliver knew full well that his entire household, fortune, prosperity, and  _career_ might crumble were it not for that woman. The press, of course, were unaware of this, only the people in the mansion and the other employees really knew just how crucial Miss Farrell was to their system.

There was no way that the public  _could_ have known, and Oliver's team made quite certain that the press believed Warbucks himself to be the heart and soul of his billions. HIs reputation preceded him, but it was fairly accurate. He was a man who made his own success, a man who was cold and bitter and emotionless, and intended on taking all of the credit for himself. Which he truly did. It wasn't even in a malicious or cruel way, it was simply who he was and how the world worked when you were a billionaire tycoon living in a country drowning in poverty.

Miss Farrell's quiet service was far from a problem for her. She adored her job, she loved having something intellectual to do every second of the day, and above all else, she loved a challenge. And Mr. Oliver Warbucks was certainly a challenge. Grace could solve just about any puzzle, come up with a solution for any problem, she could aid in calming even the worst of tempers, and her employer recognized this, but very subconsciously.

He didn't necessarily treat her much differently than his other staff, but he knew that she was important. Vital, even. He knew that he couldn't afford to lose her as a part of his team, and she knew this just as well as he did. Which is why, at times, she had no problem challenging Mr. Warbucks himself, though she would do it in her charmingly sneaky way.

There were times that she could convince her employer of something or compel him to act upon something so quickly and indirectly that he wouldn't even realize that he'd been rather manipulated until the conversation was over and it was too late. It might have been thanks to that particularly alluring glimmer in her eyes, but it was mainly thanks to her eloquent ways and compelling arguments. Oliver would become angry, but he never truly took offence to this. In fact, he admired it.

If there was one thing someone in Miss Farrell's position could absolutely not be, it was meek. They needed to be able to match his efficiency and his quick and intricate thoughts, they couldn't be too frightened off by his loud voice and stressful job.

And right from the very first day, over seven years ago, when he sat behind his big mahogany desk and interviewed the polite twenty-eight year old woman as she applied for the position of his secretary, Oliver knew that she was different. That particular glint of optimism in her eyes caught his attention. Mainly because he suspected that he'd be able to snuff out that alluring light within mere  _hours_ of her working for him.

The truth of the matter was, even after seven long years, that ever-present glimmer of hope never disappeared. Some days it was faint, some days it shone bright, but it never died. Though, Oliver was never the kind of man to notice things like that let alone ponder anything so trivial too deeply, nor did he really care, for that matter. So, he let Miss Farrell live her life and do her job without having any intentions of getting to know who the woman truly was. All he needed to know was that she comprehended his thoughts and could read his handwriting. Which, she could.

And they really didn't  _mean_ to get to know each other. In fact, they hadn't even really realized that they  _did._ That being said, spending so many hours each and every day working alongside somebody for seven years will unavoidably result in getting to know them better than you'd intended to. There isn't much of a choice in that particular matter. Within months, he'd memorized the ups and downs of the tone of her voice and she'd familiarized herself with his subtle mannerisms that were triggered by certain emotions.

But, it was merely a business relationship. They were by no means equals, he was still very much her superior, but he did see her as a key element to success. And, over the years, she'd earned plenty of leniency from the man. Presently, she worked more  _beside_ him rather than under him.

The pair had seen many things, faced many a challenge together. Economically, professionally, and personally speaking. But, of course, the only  _real_ thing that tied the two of them together was their work.

But, there was more to Miss Farrell's undying loyalty to Oliver Warbucks than simply her passion for her job. No, she  _saw_ something in that man. Something that she suspected no one else could truly see, least of all Oliver himself. She took careful note of who he was on the outside, she considered his coldness and understood how he'd been hardened by past hardships as well as the American system that he'd developed. But, that's not all she saw.

She saw what he  _could_ be. She saw the potential for goodness, she saw the ability of love and true care, she saw passion behind his eyes and heard authenticity in his voice. She realized that he had the ability to work his way out of his hard shell and finally live a true life with a real purpose that wasn't  _money._ And, quite honestly, she wanted to be there when that day came.

Of course, there was also the fact that she admired him with all her heart, though some days his insufferable attitude and demanding ways could cause her to forget this. she'd always known of the rich and fabled Oliver Warbucks, anyone who's anyone had. When she pursued working under him, her fascination only grew. He was a man of many layers, she could see that, though many people only saw the cool outer side to him.

And, tucked away in the back of her busy mind, were those pesky feelings that she'd always been too busy and rather embarrassed to acknowledge. Though, it was times when she severely suppressed those feelings that they came to her in the middle of the night and haunted her very dreams.

They were silly feelings, childish even, and she wasn't quite sure if they were more than a mere fantasy. She knew  _quite_ well that her and Mr. Warbucks could never be anything other than professional with each other. Even if they could have light conversations and enjoy a cup of tea together, it would always come down to their work. Oliver never seemed to be able to see past his money, and that included his feelings for her. For the time being, Miss Farrell had convinced herself that it was all for the best. They worked better together than anything, impudent feelings on her part would only interfere with their strong working relationship.

The Warbucks household had been through hell and not quite back recently, with the crash and everything that came with it. The day that it happened, all Miss Farrell could remember was being awake by four o'clock in the morning and answering phone call after phone call, following order after order, taking memo after memo. She wasn't sure if anyone had eaten or slept for days after the crash.

But, eventually, there came a lull. Things weren't great, nothing was as it once had been, but at least they'd gotten used to the newfound delicacy of the Warbucks enterprise. They days remained tenser than ever before, and everyone was attempting to work past the hardships. It was thanks to the crash of nineteen twenty-nine that the entire Warbucks household realized that there was a certain emptiness about the mansion. An emptiness that was harshly noted during trying times, an emptiness that might just be filled with laughter sometime in the near future.


	2. Chapter 2

It was Tuesday.

A day usually reserved for publicity issues, along with a few regular business phone calls and the occasional meeting. Tuesdays were the quieter days of the week, and Mr. Warbucks preferred not to leave the comforts of his large home at all on Tuesdays should that be possible for him. In comparison to the other days of the week, there wasn't much that truly needed to be done. That didn't mean, of course, that it wasn't still hectic and busy around the office and household. Even what was considered to be a small amount of work within the Warbucks mansion would equate to an extremely long day in another's world.

Oliver had just gotten off the phone with one of his business associates, as they'd been discussing a factory in New Hampshire that was facing an outbreak of the scarlet fever. Meanwhile, Miss Farrell had been finishing up the dictation, writing furiously on her notepad, attempting to remember her employer's last works to his associate. A quiet fell upon the room that had seconds ago been filled with the heavy sound of Mr. Warbucks' voice.

The silence that ensued was not uncomfortable by no means, it was filled with work as Oliver began to write a note of his own and Miss Farrell tucked her dictation away into a nearby filing cabinet. "Miss Farrell!" Mr. Warbucks shouted, though she was merely across the room from him, he was an impatient man at best. She could tell simply by the trying tone of his voice that her boss was about to ask a question that she would not have an answer to.

"Yes, sir?" She responded quickly, making her way back to the desk behind which he perpetually sat.

"Where the  _devil_ is Mr. Johnson? He should have been here  _minutes_ ago!"

The gentleman to which Oliver had referred was the public relations representative that he'd recently hired, and was living to regret. Public image was becoming a growing issue lately, and Oliver Warbucks' representation was having a heavy impact on the man's success. It had been Miss Farrell who had suggested that he could use some help in that field, as diplomatically as she possibly could have. Immediately, they'd both assumed that  _she_ herself would be able to step into that position on top of all that she already did around the office, but she already had far too much on her plate. Besides, it would be safer for everyone if Oliver simply splurged a bit and hired - supposedly - the best of the best.

Unfortunately, they'd all been rather let down with Mr. Johnson's business thus far. The man came from a trustworthy firm, but he didn't seem to really know what he was talking about. Furthermore, his attendance at mandatory meetings was a little too erratic for the liking of this particular household. And above all else, Mr. Johnson had far too much confidence for such an incompetent man.

"I'm sorry sir, he  _should_ be here." Miss Farrell began, always quick to apologize as if it was her own fault that their business representative was late, again. "I was hoping we'd gotten through to him when you asked him not to be late for another scheduled meeting, but I suppose not."

"I knew that man wouldn't last long." Oliver boomed harshly, "I have a feeling that it would be smart to make this his last meeting with us if he can't even be bothered to show up on time!" The tycoon's fragile temper was rising, he knew that this would impact their busy schedule in ways that he shouldn't need to worry about. But, Miss Farrell's calm demeanour balanced his building anger.

"I'm afraid you may be right, sir." She softened her eyes and peered at him uncertainly, "I suppose it would be unreasonable to give him the benefit of the doubt?"

"You'd convinced me to hear him out after the first dreadful meeting, Miss Farrell." Oliver began definitively, his loud voice would have scared anyone else, but it was something that she'd gotten quite used to. "I can't have you convince me once more!"

"Yes, sir." She agreed calmly, a serene smile on her face as she appreciated the down time that Mr. Johnson's tardiness had provided them with. She watched cautiously as Oliver began to pace back and forth behind his desk, awaiting the arrival of a man who may never show up at all.

Finally, Mr. Thompson himself came bursting through the door without so much as a knock to alert the room of his arrival, causing Miss Farrell the need to bite her tongue in order to prevent the strong desire to comment on his atrocious manners. The cocky public relations representative greeted Mr. Warbucks with a million dollar smile that didn't do much for anyone in the room.

"Mr. Thompson!" Mr. Warbucks immediately began to lay into him, "You haven't arrived on time for a  _single_ meeting since I've hired you!" Miss Farrell watched silently as he took the lead on this particular case. They  _both_ knew which affairs she should handle and which ones should be left in his capable hands. "This whole  _company_ runs on efficiency, how do you expect to be a part of it if you can't even keep up with the  _schedule?"_

Mr. Thompson brushed off his boss' shouts of anger as if he  _wasn't_ mere seconds away from being fired as he glanced around the room. "I do apologize for my lateness, but could we get started? We've got a lot to discuss to day, Mr. Warbucks, a lot to discuss!" The room was silent for a split second as everyone processed Mr.Thompson's brash attempt to take hold of this situation.

Oliver glared at him incredulously,  _surely_ this man had more sense than to challenge him to a battle of authority? "We will begin when  _I_ say we will begin!" Mr. Warbucks responded angrily, glancing at Miss Farrell to see that she was just as confused as he was.

Instead of acknowledging his employer's berating comments, Mr. Thompson simply began flipping through a notebook that he'd brought with him with was obviously, and  _hopefully,_ filled with notes and ideas on his publicity issues. Taking the seat that Miss Farrell usually occupied in front of Oliver's desk, Mr. Thompson glanced over at the woman herself with an arrogant smile. "You're the assistant?" He asked, though they'd been introduced  _many_ times.

" _Personal secretary."_ Miss Farrell corrected him through gritted teeth, attempting to remain civil towards this man whose words were more suited to those of a car salesman rather than a serious business associate of a wealthy tycoon.

"Could you bring us some coffee, sweetheart?" Mr. Thompson gestured towards her without glancing in her direction, "Us men need to get down to business in here." Now, Grace's smile faltered. She was  _not_ the coffee run woman, she was always present in meetings per Oliver's request, and she intended to be there for this one. When nothing was said in her defence, she looked to her boss, who now sat behind his desk and wore a look on his face that could only be classified as disbelief. He glanced back and forth between his public relations representative and his personal secretary, wondering just how he'd managed to get himself into this situation.

"We don't have time for coffee, Mr. Thompson." Oliver finally began, snapping back to reality as he motioned for Miss Farrell to take a seat and join them. "Thanks to you, this meeting is off track already, let's just hear what you have to say and be done with it."

Clearly, Mr. Thompson had never stared danger in the eye, because he waved away Oliver's request and pressed on. "Oh, she doesn't mind." He insisted, as Miss Farrell widened her calmly furious eyes. "This meeting will merely be money talk, I'm sure she has no interest in any of that. Besides, I'd really take to a nice hot cup of coffee right now." He finally looked up from his notebook to glance at Miss Farrell, "So, could you do that for me Miss... uh," he faltered stupidly, "I'm sorry, I always forget your name."

Oliver spoke before she could answer him, all he wanted to do was get on with this meeting so that he could get back to work and Mr. Thompson was dead set on making that very difficult for him. " _Miss Farrell_ will do nothing of the sort!" Oliver's voice was harsh and forceful, few people on this earth would argue with that particular tone. "We need to get this meeting started, I haven't got all day! Just tell us what we need to hear!"

" _Ah,_ that's it, Miss  _Farrell!"_ Mr. Thomson said with a snap of his fingers as his memory had been refreshed of the brunette secretary's name. "Anyways, let's begin, shall we?" He continued, much to the relief of the other two people in the room who'd been longing to begin the meeting a very long time ago.

Their little chat did consist of a lot of money talk, and many topics had been thoroughly covered, but after a while, it took a bit of a turn.

"Now, the truth of the matter is, Mr. Warbucks," Thompson went on in the same arrogant tone of voice that made Miss Farrell cringe at his egotism, "your public image is suffering."

This rubbed Oliver the wrong way, and he was about to argue defensively but Thompson continued before he could interject. "Quite frankly, the way that the public sees you is going to greatly impact your success. I know that the goal of the matter here is to continue to be as successful as you possibly can, but that's growing increasingly harder to do in this blasted depression."

Mr. Warbucks seemed to agree for the most part, though the sour look on his face might have suggested otherwise. He could tell that Thompson was hopefully about to relay a plan of some sort to help him, so he gestured to Miss Farrell to begin taking notes, unbeknownst to him that she'd already begun to do so before he could ask that of her.

"The medias are portraying you as a cold businessman with no regards to anyone but yourself." He stated simply, but that was the  _truth._

 _"And?"_ Oliver couldn't see the problem there.

"And that was all fine and dandy before the crush, but everything is different, now."

Oliver's expression only grew more impatient, though he continued to listen to what Thompson was saying as he knew it to be the undeniable truth.

"Now, we just need to be a little bit smarter about how we're going to play this. It's not all about money anymore, there's more to it than that. We need to influence the way that people  _see_ you, and that in itself could boost your profits in mysterious ways, I'm telling you."

"And  _how_ do you suggest we go about that?" Oliver asked with a bit of characteristically dark sarcasm.

"I do have a solution." Thompson nodded, "I guarantee you won't like it, so just hear me out." Miss Farrell shifted in her seat and set her notepad in her lap, curious as to what his suggestion could possibly be. "New York is full of orphans, it's a growing problem that isn't going to be solved anytime soon."

"Mr. Thompson," Oliver interrupted, "I assure you, I am in  _no_ position to be placing any donations at this time!"

Thompson shook his head, "No, no. I was thinking somewhere more along the lines of a small  _charity_ program."

"Charity program?" Miss Farrell questioned, her pleasantly feminine voice now ringing through the quiet room.

"Inviting an orphan - a sad, lonely,  _penniless,_ poor little orphan - into your home for a week or two and letting him live the high life for that short period of time. Give us the chance to take some pictures, print out a positive article depicting Oliver Warbucks as an American hero, and letting the world fall in love with you."

Mr. Warbucks said nothing, but across from him, Miss Farrell sat stifling undeniable  _giggles._ He glanced over at her with a harshly questioning look on his face, and she ceased her laughter, though a smile remained on her face as she stared at him in a way that forced him to turn away from her and look back towards Mr. Thompson. Had it been anyone else, Oliver would have lost his temper at her and sent her out of his sight, perhaps even fire her then and there. But, this was  _Miss Farrell._

"Just  _think_ about it, boss. You've got your fair share of staff here. Hell, I counted maybe  _four_ butlers on my way in here! You've got two bodyguards, countless maids, and more housekeepers than you know what to do with! And, of course, you have Miss...  _uh,"_ he glanced at Miss Farrell but had quite obviously forgotten her name yet again, so he simply gestured towards her, " _her..._ at your beck and call, you wouldn't have to do a thing! The most you'd have to do is pose for some pictures and that would be that!"

It really wasn't the  _worst_ idea in the world, and Oliver knew that he could use some help with regards to his public image. But, he really did  _not_ like children. After contemplating this suggestion for several moments, he remembered a phone call that he needed to make urgently and simply just wanted the meeting to come to quick ending.

" _Fine."_ He agreed, though he hadn't really thought much on the subject, "But I don't want to have to do a  _damn_ thing." He turned to Miss Farrell now, "You'll make sure that the staff occupy the boy and keep him out of my way." She nodded with a smile, excited knowing the change that a child would bring to the household.

Oliver didn't even bother shaking Mr. Thompson's hand before sending the insufferable man out of the room so that he could get back to his telephone call. Before he did so, he glanced towards his secretary, about to order her to get president Roosevelt back on the line, but the look on her face prevented him from doing so as he now needed to address the strangely curious way that she was looking at him.

"May I ask what you find so  _amusing_ about this situation, _Miss Farrell?"_ He spoke in a harsh and accusatory tone, though Miss Farrell knew not to be threatened by it and her smile faltered only slightly.

"I just find it..." she struggled to find the right definition, "...  _difficult_ to picture you with a child around the house, sir."

"Well, you won't be seeing much of  _me_ with the child, I've already told you to make sure that our paths don't cross unless they absolutely  _need_ to."

"Naturally, sir." She tried to sound respectful, but another small giggle slipped out.

"Do you think that you can manage to set up a phone call for me without bursting into a fit of laughter or is that too much to ask?"

She shook her head, "Of course not, Mr. Warbucks," but continued to smile as his frustration grew, finding it nothing but amusing as she pondered what it might be like to have an uneducated, unruly orphan running around Mr. Warbucks' prestigious mansion.

She turned to leave the room, needing to grab something from the other office before their real work could begin. She was almost out the door when Mr. Warbucks spoke again in a more demanding tone this time, his dark eyebrows lowered as he considered his next move. "And, Miss Farrell?" he broke the silence, and Grace shifted slightly so that she could see him once more.

"Yes, sir?"

"Fire that bastard before he leaves, would you?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Thank you." Miss Grace Farrell had said to Mr. Warbucks' bodyguard, the Asp, after he'd opened the door to the automobile and offered her his hand to help her step down onto the cold New York pavement.

It was a crisp day, the wind was far stronger than she'd prepared for, causing her to pull her baby blue coat tighter around herself. Glancing about the busy streets, Miss Farrell felt rather on edge, she found herself in a neighbourhood far different from fifth avenue. Stray dogs running through the streets, merchantmen shouting their persuasions, children in rags sitting on stoops, she was a long way from home.

But, regardless of where she presently found herself, today was the day. The day that she'd be choosing an orphan to bring home to Mr. Warbucks' mansion for the week. She'd informed him of all this yesterday, but he was quite distracted as she did so and Grace was fairly certain that he'd forgotten all about the entire situation. In fact, she believed this to be a good thing, as her employer was not keen on the idea and likely would have cut it short had he really had time to dwell on it.

Miss Farrell knew that Mr. Warbucks was assuming she'd bring him home a boy, and she was  _going_ to follow his clear instructs, she really was. But, she couldn't help but think to herself that there were  _enough_ boys around the mansion. There as the Asp, Punjab, Drake and the other butlers, all the gardeners and landscapers, the majority of the office workers, the accountants, the business associates, and of course, the man of the house himself, Oliver Warbucks.

The only women aside from the maids, Mrs. Greer, and Mrs. Pugh at the mansion, was Miss Farrell. Another girl couldn't hurt, could it? She might even do the household some good, for young orphaned men tended to grow up far too quickly. A little girl might bring a bout of hope with her, maybe even some laughter and joy. Besides, her presence certainly would even things out a little around the mansion.

Grace turned back to the car and noticed the Asp giving her a specific look which she could read expertly. On his face, Miss Farrell understood that he was well aware of her going against their employer's specific wishes as she now stood outside of a home for orphaned  _girls._ Secondly, she saw that the friendly bodyguard wasn't particularly  _against_ her decision, and she could also tell that he had nothing but faith that she could convince Oliver that a  _girl_ wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

That was all the reassurance that Miss Farrell needed, she straightened her coat and rang the doorbell.

Seconds later, after some questionable shouting from inside the orphanage, the heavy door swung open with a creak and Grace was immediately hit with the smell of alcohol. Even she herself held no reservations against enjoying the occasional cocktail, though the prohibition had made that rather difficult to do recently, but this specific scent was quite overpowering.

Nonetheless, Miss Farrell had a job to do, and she got right down to business. And it was in that small, rancid smelling office that Grace met Annie for the very first time.

It began with a cracked door and the sight of unruly red curls framing a wide smile and freckled cheeks. As Miss Farrell described the kind of child that she and Mr. Warbucks were looking for with the help of her secret communication with the orphan behind the door, the woman who ran the orphanage - Miss Agatha Hannigan - denied having such a child.

When the redheaded girl revealed herself, Miss Farrell suggested that she leave with her, but Miss Hannigan immediately refused. Which, ridiculously enough, resulted in a tig of war between the two woman that was won by Miss Farrell thanks to the mention of Mr. Warbucks threatening Miss Hannigan's job. It was a low blow for someone like her, and it certainly didn't quite ring true, but it got her what she wanted.

And with that, Miss Farrell, Annie,  _and_ her shaggy mutt of a dog were home free. The child bid farewell to her friends and begun the fascinating drive back to the mansion.


	4. Chapter 4

As pleasant as Miss Farrell and Annie's first encounter had been, the orphan and Mr. Warbucks himself meeting for the first time was anything but pleasant.

After Annie had been introduced to the staff and shown around the house, the child found herself utterly enthralled. Who wouldn't be after spending their short life in that dingy orphanage with dozens of other children and a drunken caretaker? That was a completely different world for Annie.

But, the team of staff had lost all track of time thanks to their newest acquaintance, and when the telltale horns of Mr. Warbucks' car alerted them of his arrival, they flew into a panicked frenzy. The employees all returned quickly and formally to their set places and even Miss Farrell grew jittery as she ran to greet her boss, nearly forgetting all about Annie, who had taken to hiding behind a pillar.

Mr. Warbucks was known to have a fast pace, and even after all those years of practice, Miss  Farrell still struggled to keep up to him in her heeled shoes as she listed off every phone call and memo that Oliver had missed while he was out. Suddenly, the man stopped mid-sentence before the grand staircase and turned around to face Miss Farrell slowly with a questioning scowl on his face.

Before he could even pose the question, he could tell simply by his secretary's composure alone that she was up to something, that something wasn't quite normal. It was the nervous look on her face and the way that she held her hands with wide eyes that caused him to ask just what it was that was being hidden from him. "Why do I smell..." he looked around himself slowly, then back to Miss Farrell, "...  _wet dog?"_

Grace visibly cringed, forgetting all about the soapy rinse that Annie and Drake had attempted to give her dog upon their arrival. She'd hoped that, for the child's own sake, she would stay hidden wherever she was and let Miss Farrell do the explaining. But, her wishes were proven to be in vain as the red curls appeared from behind the stone pillar followed by the  _wet dog_ itself.

"Because, sir," Annie began, with a refreshingly childish innocence about her as she spoke, "we gave Sandy a bath."

Mr. Warbucks was shocked to see the child and dog in his mansion, and confused to see the very least. Miss Farrell sensed the calm before the store as her employer nodded silently and slowly turned back to face her, an expectant look in his blue eyes. "Miss Farrell," he demanded, "what is the meaning of this?" Oliver's anger rose with each word he spoke, and Miss Farrell sensed that what was to come wouldn't be pretty.

"Sir, this is -" before she could even begin to explain, Miss Farrell was interrupted when Oliver lost his temper at an unsuspecting photographer from the New York Times who was attempting to do a segment on the billionaire and the orphan. After calming her boss down and explaining that the photographer meant no harm, the attention of the two adults was finally drawn back to the child in question, who was now swaying uncomfortably before them. "This is Annie. She's the orphan that's going to be staying with us." Miss Farrell finally managed to explain.

" _Orphan,_ what are you talking about, what orphan?" Oliver questioned, eyeing the child rather viciously. He'd never been partial to children.

"The orphan for the public relations statement, don't you remember, sir?"

"This doesn't look like a boy." Mr. Warbucks stated definitively, "Orphans are boys."

Miss Farrell smiled as best as she could, "Oh, you didn't say you wanted a boy, sir. You  _just_ said an orphan..." She began, lying through her teeth as they both knew, "... so I got a girl!" Her enthusiasm over the matter strangely reassured her employer. He knew that this wasn't going to be the biggest problem in his world, but he still continued to object, nonetheless.

It wasn't until Annie began talking and expressed what an honour it was to spend even the short amount of time that she had in his wonderful home, meeting his lovely staff. In fact, it was more fun than she'd had in her entire lifetime, and that was the truth. Miss Farrell glanced between the child and her employer with a hopeful eye.

Oliver had never been one to give in to a guilt trip, and he barely felt sorry for anyone, Miss Farrell wasn't certain that Annie's little spiel would work on him. But, when Oliver finally looked over at his secretary, and Miss Farrell gave him that same pleading look that Annie was giving him, he cleared his throat and made his way back up the stairs. "Let's get to work!" He shouted, and unbeknownst to Grace, he'd already made his mind up on the matter. But, he didn't speak his verbal affirmation, instead he simply motioned for Miss Farrell to follow him as he continued to speak relentlessly about the phone calls that he'd missed.

Confused as to what the outcome of their situation truly was, Grace pressed rather timidly, "Are you  _sure_ you need a boy, sir?" She began to climb the stairs behind him, "Couldn't she stay? It's only for a week!"

Mr. Warbucks didn't even glance behind himself to meet her eyes, he simply continued up the stairs in the direction of his office as he spoke in his trademark booming voice. " _Whatever._ But, just for the week!"

Miss Farrell, knowing that this was the closest thing that she was going to get to  _yes, of course,_ gave Annie a thumbs up and followed her employer closely as they continued their business.


	5. Chapter 5

Miss Farrell could tell that this week would be anything but ordinary.

And she didn't mind one bit. This was a nice change - turning the corner after a stressful meeting and seeing a child's smile as she explored the mansion brought great comfort to her. Besides, Annie would be greatly improving Oliver's public image, so it was quite the win-win situation for them all. Not that Mr. Warbucks saw it that way, of course, as he'd told her over and over again that day when their work had been interrupted multiple times by a curious orphan and her pesky dog.

Annie had only been with them for a day now, but she was loving every glorious minute of it. Miss Farrell could tell that the young girl was quite fascinated with Mr. Warbucks, something that Grace herself could relate to more than she cared to admit, and wished that she could spend more time with the man himself. She understood that he was busy, but Annie thought that even simply watching him work was enough for her.

That night, after Annie had played enough tennis to prevent her from being able to walk properly due to her sore muscles, Miss Farrell tucked the child into bed and said goodnight to her. It was something that could have easily been done by Mrs. Greer or another maid, as it was their job to do so, but Grace preferred to do it herself. She enjoyed spending time with the child and was pleased when Annie struck up a conversation, as she tended to do.

Grace was happy to spend a little extra time talking before she shut the lights out, and a lot of that eagerness stemmed from the fact that it was the first Thursday of the month, meaning that her and Oliver would be working well into the first hours of the morning that night and she wasn't quite ready to step back into that stressful environment.

"Miss Farrell?"

"Yes, dear?" She replied sweetly, neatly folding up the blue dress that Annie had previously discarded carelessly onto a nearby chair.

"Thanks for pickin' me to be the kid you guys look after for a while." She said, patting Sandy's head beside her. "I know you could'a picked any of the other girls, so thanks for choosin' me."

Miss Farrell's eyebrows drew together as she struggled to accept how endearing that child truly was to her. "You are  _more_ than welcome, Annie." She said warmly, sitting herself down on the edge of Annie's bed, "It's lovely having you here, we all enjoy your company very much."

"Not Mr. Warbucks." The child said with a small laugh, thinking about earlier that day when Oliver had shouted at both Annie  _and_ Grace for the child's small distraction. "I know the rest of you all like havin' me around, and I love you all too already, but it sure would be swell if Mr. Warbucks liked me around."

Miss Farrell didn't know what to say to reassure the child, who wasn't particular wrong in her statement. "Oh, sweetheart, Mr. Warbucks likes you as much as he can, which is more than he allows himself to show. He is a very good man, though it may not show easily, he has a very large heart."

"Well, if his heart's really so big, you must be the only one who can see it." Annie giggled,  _she_ certainly hadn't been privy to any of Mr. Warbucks' softer moments.

"Perhaps I am." Miss Farrell mumbled rather quietly, and it was true. She didn't like how the world viewed Oliver, but more importantly, she didn't like how he  _let_ the world view him. He had only been hardened by the stress and trials of the life that he's always lived, but that didn't mean that his heart was not secretly warm and generous.

She'd only caught mere glimpses of Oliver's true kindness that she'd suspected had been there all along before, but they did not go unnoticed by her. That being said, already she could see things hinting at change. Ever since he'd agreed to have Annie stay at the mansion rather quicker than she'd expected, he'd been agreeing to smaller things without needing near as much persuasion as he usually did.

Miss Farrell was always asking small favours of him, and she began to feel bad for the trouble that she believed to be causing, but with Annie's innocent and hopeful eyes watching her, she couldn't deny the child's wishes and mustered up the courage to ask her harsh employer. She'd ask if Annie could join them, and promised that she couldn't make noise. She'd ask if Drake could take a break from his post and take Annie on a tour of the garden, and promised that they would be quick. She'd ask if Annie could come into the office and watch them work, and promised that she wouldn't be a distraction. She'd ask if Annie could give Sandy a bath upstairs, and promised that they wouldn't make a mess. Though, her promises were  _always_ broken.

The initial responses to her requests were always  _no,_ but she knew that it wasn't very firm. And, with a simple plead of her voice and a beg of her eyes, she could  _always_ convince him to say yes in the end. But, Annie always  _did_ make noise, her walks with the staff were  _never_ short, she was  _always_ a distraction, and a mess was made without fail each and every time she'd attempted to bathe Sandy.

The truth of the matter was that these things were no longer such immense problems as Oliver had thought they would be. He might lose his temper occasionally when the situation grew to be more than his fragile attention could handle, but he didn't really mind when Annie joined him and Miss Farrell while they took dictations, made phone calls, and discussed different things. And the child's incessant questions were no longer as much of a bother to him as they had initially been.

After a couple of days, Annie was already getting everything that she wanted, with the help of Miss Farrell. Their system was flawless - Annie knew that Miss Farrell couldn't say no to her, and she also knew that Mr. Warbucks couldn't say no to Miss Farrell, so whatever she wanted, she got.

"You must like him a whole lot." Annie stated, noting the fact that Miss Farrell never seemed to have anything bad to say about her boss. "To be able to put up with his temper like that and still talk 'bout him the way you do."

"Well," Miss Farrell sighed, "I've been here with him for a long time, Annie. And I work right beside him every single day. I see who he really is inside, even if he can't see that himself." She pulled the blankets up around Annie and tucked her in, "You might even see that yourself one day soon."


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Annie had been looking forward to spending some time in the grand pool, and wondered if maybe even Sandy might join her. That question was answered when her dog jumped headlong into the pool, causing Mr. Warbucks to shout loudly at him, his voice echoing off the tall walls of the room.

"Do you like my suit?" Annie asked him, referring to the lemon yellow swimsuit embroidered with pink flowers that she was wearing as she began to swim around the warm pool.

" _What?"_ He questioned initially, still shouting, before realizing to what she was referring. " _Oh,_ yes." He didn't necessarily care at all about the swimsuit that the girl was wearing, but figured that the polite answer would simply be to agree.

"Miss Farrell picked it out." Annie pointed out proudly with a tilt of her chin, and Oliver rolled his eyes. He  _knew_ full well that Miss Farrell had picked it out. The previous night, at around one in the morning after they'd finally finished up their work, Grace had asked if Oliver might let her go shopping for some new clothes for Annie. Her logic was that if the girl was going to be staying in the billionaire's home, she may as well look the part. Mr. Warbucks knew that she really just wanted to make Annie happy with as many gifts as she could spare for her.

"Thanks for lettin' me stay, sir. I know you wanted a boy an' all."

Looking back on it, the fact that Miss Farrell had brought home an orphaned girl as opposed to a boy as Mr. Warbucks had asked wasn't the  _worst_ thing in the world. Annie would do for the social experiment that they were conducting, even if she was a  _girl._ "Never thought I'd get used to a girl." Oliver spoke with a tired sigh, and his words rang true. He'd gotten quite used to Annie's escapade and it was merely her third day in his house.

"Girls are easier to get used to than boys." Annie nodded her head, "Look how used to Miss Farrell you are." Mr. Warbucks considered this, and upon reflection, realized it to be true. He wasn't even aware of just how  _used_ to his secretary that he'd become until just then. He then began to wonder where on  _earth_ the time had gone upon realizing that she'd been working for him close to a decade, now. "I mean," Annie continued, "Miss Farrell does all the work around here, and you don't even know her first name!" She chuckled a bit, as if the irony became her.

Immediately, Oliver grew characteristically defensive. He didn't wish to seem arrogant, he knew  _exactly_ how much work that Miss Farrell did and he would give her credit for that any day. "I  _do,_ it's Grace _."_ He stated sternly, correcting the child's mistake. But, Annie didn't even seem to notice, she simply continued to smile and ramble on about the woman who'd become like a mother to her recently.

"Well, she thinks you're the greatest thing since sliced bread!" Annie said triumphantly, wishing that Mr. Warbucks could  _see_ just how much Miss Farrell admired him.

This took him by complete surprise as he shot up straight and nearly choked on the pool water that he'd been hit with. "I  _beg_ your pardon?" Oliver questioned impatiently, wondering if what the child said was true or not, but she wasn't finished just yet.

"I know it's none of my business," Annie began, and Oliver could tell simply by the tone of her prying voice that she was about to express her inflexible opinion on the matter of him and Grace Farrell, "but you never notice  _anything!"_

Mr. Warbucks had no response at all for the child, he simply looked around himself silently in thought, letting her words sink in. " _Sliced bread..._ " he repeated quietly, and secretly revelled in this newfound piece of pleasant information that he really should have known all along.


	7. Chapter 7

That night, the economic stability of Warbucks Incorporated had taken a turn for the worse. As it was becoming increasingly worrisome, Mr. Warbucks had called Miss Farrell into his bustling office in the middle of the night to take down a dictation while he frantically checked his stocks and barked off orders to everyone around him.

It was a bit of an emergency, but nothing that they hadn't dealt with before. Nonetheless, Miss Farrell had taken it upon herself to disconnect two other portable telephones from different rooms around the mansion so that they could be set up in the office and all used at once. She'd always been efficient that way.

It was well past midnight, but the circumstances weren't letting up. After a few more hours of relentless work, Oliver had sent his remaining employees home for the night save for Miss Farrell, who boarded in the mansion anyways and was always ready and willing to face all of Mr. Warbucks' storms head on right beside him. Though the situation was growing slightly less dire, it was still no appropriate time at all for a child in her nightgown to come running into the office followed by her barking dog.

Oliver didn't even have the time to scold the two of them or ask what on earth they were doing in there so late at night, and neither did Grace, though the look on her face proved that she was suddenly distracted out of concern for the child's disposition.

"Sandy's not used to sleeping in a room by himself," Annie began, her voice was quick and it was clear to see that she'd sprinted to the office from her bedroom, "he gets lonesome."

Miss Farrell looked at the child and wished that her employer would provide her with the time to gesture for Annie to come near and sit beside her. Instead, she was forced to swiftly flip a page in her notepad and continue her dictation on the opposite side of his desk as her boss continued speaking harshly on the phone and Annie looked at her pet in confusion as Sandy persistently barked furiously.

"What is the matter with that dog?" Mr. Warbucks finally yelled, his rhetorical question posed to no one in particular, as he hung up the telephone that he'd been working with. " _Punjab!"_ He shouted, "Remove this animal and its young mistress with it!"

Grace was about to protest, but she knew that now was not the time nor place to do so. Instead, she glanced at Punjab with rather wide eyes, who seemed to ignore his employer's request entirely as he stared at the frantic dog.

The shards of suddenly shattered glass that flew from the broken window ceased all noise in the room - save for Oliver's persistent voice as he began a new telephone call - and caused them all to look to the window in surprise. Within seconds, the heavy black bomb that had been thrown into the room and broken the glass along with it had been picked up expertly by Punjab and masterfully tossed back outside, where a loud explosion followed in the backyard.

Not long after Punjab had diverted the bomb, Sandy had lead the attacker to be cornered by the Asp, who finished him off and pulled him downstairs to be taken away by the police.

Such attacks were not as irregular occurrences as they should have been, the Bolsheviks had been after Mr. Warbucks' all-American success ever since he'd made his first million, and they seemingly wouldn't stop until they'd taken his very life. This was why Oliver had hired the best two bodyguards that his money could buy, and though there had been  _dozens_ of assassination attempts against him, he always walked away from them unharmed and rather unfazed.

The first few times that it happened were admittedly jarring for the man, and they'd actually caused him to avoid his office for days after the incidents, but he soon grew to become rather numb to the attacks. Now, they didn't even bother him, though he  _was_ unsettled deep inside by the thought of his life  _constantly_ being in danger. But, the attacks themselves nowadays tended to leave him as calm and collected as could be.

Even now, he sat back in his chair and clicked off the line, patting Sandy's head as he pondered the cost of repairing his shattered office window. Miss Farrell, on the other hand, tended to be a much different story altogether. She'd been made aware of the assassination attempts before she'd even taken on the job, but the first time that she'd witnessed one left her shaken and disturbed.

Now, resting a protective hand on Annie's small shoulder, she looked to her boss, but knew better than to expect to see a frantic look on his face. As per usual, his demeanour was calm, and he simply sent her a rather reassuring look as Punjab and the Asp had both left the room to deal with the situation. All things considered, Oliver had to be appreciative of the fact that Annie and Sandy had decided to interrupt his office work.

The attack in the office that night had almost been rather civil in comparison to how bad they'd gotten recently. Miss Farrell didn't dare let her mind wander to the evening that someone had managed to get inside the mansion with a knife and a dangerous plan. Years ago, this particular attacker had somehow caught wind of the fact that Miss Grace Farrell herself might just have been the most important piece of the Warbucks establishment. That night,  _she_ was the target.

The events were hazy to her, but somewhere along her way from the sitting room to Mr. Warbucks' office, she'd been grabbed forcefully and felt a knife held to her throat. She had screamed, and while she was being lead God only knew where, her dire cries had caught the attention of the billionaire himself, who had passed through his office doors only to come face to face with his terrified secretary who currently had a knife against her neck.

Thankfully, the split second that it took for Oliver to register what exactly was happening was also all it took for the Asp to appear out of thin air and take down the attacker from behind.

Miss Farrell was, unfortunately, perfectly present during the entire situation. She remembered every shout, every spoken word, and every feeling she'd experienced. She remembers that after it was all over, she'd stumbled forwards, gasping for air as her hand flew to her throat where mere seconds earlier, a knife had been pressed. She'd been rather taken by surprise when she suddenly found her employer by her side, offering her a hand up.

She'd accepted his assistance graciously and attempted to steady her breathing, knowing that she'd need to calm down if she wanted her thoughts to remain sturdy. Oliver placed a hand that she'd assumed was merely meant to be comforting - in reality, it was more  _protective_ on his part than anything - on her shoulder as he spoke to the Asp after he'd dealt with the dangerous man.

She'd never been in a situation like that before, and she'd never been in one since, as Mr. Warbucks had  _immediately_ deemed it necessary to hire a second bodyguard so that the Asp could have a partner to watch his back. After Miss Farrell had been attacked, Oliver realized just how many people he was putting in danger simply by having them as employees or business associates. He could handle threats to his own life and wellbeing, but now that Miss Farrell had been dragged into the situation and there had already been an attack against her, Oliver was certain that more were to follow.

Bombs were usual, such as the one that had been detonated that night in the office with Annie and Sandy, and when thrown into a room full of people, more than just one life could be lost. The last thing that Oliver Warbucks wanted was for anybody to get hurt because of him.

Presently, the room was shaken upon witnessing the attempted assassination. Again, Mr. Warbucks truly thought nothing of it beyond the fact that he was pleased that no one was hurt. But, the little girl only seemed confused. Oliver glanced compulsively towards his secretary, and the two shared a look of understanding. There was a familiar fear in her eyes, and he knew for certain that it was time for the two of them to call it a night.

Annie's voice shook the room from its trance, as she inquired curiously as to what was going on. Miss Farrell simply stroked her hair lovingly and turned to Mr. Warbucks. "It's very late, sir," she began, her calm voice contradicting the shaken look in her eyes, "I should take her back to bed."

Oliver nodded, "Very well, Miss Farrell." He spoke quietly, "We'll continue this tomorrow." 


	8. Chapter 8

Miss Grace Farrell hadn't slept a wink all night.

She'd been kept awake due to intrusive thoughts haunting her subconscious regarding the recent attack that had been imposed upon her employer and thus his entire household, including Annie. And that morning, she was in a frenzy. The events of last night had unsettled her more than usual thanks to the child's involvement paired with Mr. Warbucks' apathy with respect to his own safety.

This was the last straw. If he wasn't going to take the required measures to ensure his own protection, then she would have to take matters into her own very capable hands. She'd left her room at five-thirty in the morning and let herself into the empty office to make a multitude of phone calls, gathering information on security upgrades that she would propose to Mr. Warbucks whenever she saw him.

And that is exactly what she did. Oliver had barely so much as left his own room before his secretary found him and captured him into a conversation that was far too business-oriented far too early in the morning for his taste. He'd attempted to wave her away, suggesting that their conversation could wait until he had at least had a cup of coffee, but she'd managed to match his quick pace as they made their way through the mansion and she continued to speak a mile a minute.

"Sir, if the threats are growing rapidly, we can't just ignore them and assume that everything will constantly be  _fine!"_ She insisted, wondering how he could so freely turn a blind eye.

"Oh,  _can't_ we?" Oliver raised an eyebrow as he kept his vision forward tiredly as he continued to walk through the hall, "Why don't you continue to tell me what we can and cannot do around my  _own_ home, Miss Farrell?" Though his words could have been threatening so as to remind her of her position as a mere secretary, they were only slightly teasing. 

"One day, these attacks may be bigger than the power we have here!" She ignored his teasing and remarked impatiently, gesturing passionately with her hands to emphasize her point. "We  _have_ the means to greatly improve our security system, why not take advantage of the opportunity?"

"Miss Farrell, you know as well as I do that my own protection isn't my biggest concern, right now."

Before Mr. Warbucks could even attempt to make his point, he was interrupted by his secretary, who had narrowed her eyes while considering something that she hadn't thought about in some time. " _Why_ is it that after  _I_ was targeted some  _four_ years ago, you  _immediately_ hired a second bodyguard so that security could be increased and  _yet,_ when your  _own_ life is threatened, you barely bat an eye?"

"That was  _very_ much different, Miss Farrell, and you  _know_ that." He cast her a stern look, "Right now, our economy is continuously crashing, I'm not about to start making  _foolish_ investments during the worst depression this country has ever seen!"

" _But -"_ She tried to intervene, but Oliver was too quick for her.

"Now, what's it going to take for you to quit  _pestering_ me and let me get to my breakfast in peace?"

" _Well,"_ She began matter-of-factly with a roll of her blue eyes, "you could  _begin_ with realizing that your  _life_ is worth more than your  _money_ and you could just  _let_ me upgrade the security system which will better protect  _all_ of us."

Oliver suddenly stopped walking and turned to face her with a tiresome but challenging look in his eyes. "If I agree will you quit  _badgering_ me about it?"

"Yes."

"Then  _fine."_ He raised an eyebrow but didn't move from his stance, " _Now,_ I presume you'll be holding up your end of the bargain?" It was a demand in the form of a casually teasing remark and she knew it - he was telling her that it was time to quit with the security talk.

In turn, Miss Farrell smiled and suppressed the urge to roll her eyes yet again at his sarcasm before they finally continued their walk to the dining room in peaceful and pleasant silence. Though, of course, that silence did not last long. It was almost as if the two of them had completely forgotten all about the rambunctious orphan that they now housed within the walls of the mansion.

Upon their entrance to the dining room where their hearty breakfast awaited, Annie ran up to greet them in a rather loud manner. Grace welcomed the child's presence with a smile as Annie had immediately managed to lift her previously worried spirits. Oliver, on the other hand, barely said a word and headed straight for a cup of hot coffee prepared just the way he liked it.

He was put on edge by Miss Farrell's relentless concern, but he had frankly been expecting an encounter such as the one he'd just had with her. The woman was always worrying about his safety, but he would admit that he hadn't been expecting her badgering quite so early in the morning. He usually needed his fair share of caffeine or perhaps even a cigar and a brandy before he could painlessly endure one of her exhaustion-induced frenzies.

*****

The day drew on somewhat normally. After breakfast, Annie had followed Miss Farrell and Mr. Warbucks around rather relentlessly until Grace could predict that Oliver was about to lose his temper with all of them and she sweetly suggested that Annie take Sandy to see the pond around back that she had yet to visit since she'd arrived.

Annie may have been but a child, but she could see why Miss Farrell had politely prompted her and Sandy to take their presence elsewhere, and she understood that it wasn't Grace herself who wanted them to leave, but it all came down to Oliver Warbucks' low tolerance levels. In fact, Grace would have Annie around for every second of the day were it up to her, but the child really  _did_ have some interest in seeing the pond that everyone spoke so fondly of, so she whistled for her dog and they took off down the hallway, making their way towards the back garden door.

Sitting down at his desk in relief, Oliver sighed slightly, but the moment was soon passed as the phone began to ring and the work picked up yet again.

At around noon, they all took their usual pause for a half hour or until work could no longer be ignored. This was when Miss Farrell typically had her tea and Mr. Warbucks even took a small break, sometimes having a cigar in his office, sometimes sitting somewhere with Miss Farrell or one of his other tolerable employees, and sometimes not taking a break at all.

During the rare days that it was still bearable to be outside without chills nipping at one's neck, Miss Farrell enjoyed drinking her tea at one of the small tables in the garden, especially since recently this had allowed her to watch over Annie as she played in the yard carelessly.

Right now, that was exactly what Miss Farrell found herself doing. She'd been so enthralled with watching Annie laugh in utter joy as she attempted to climb one of the tall apple trees and Sandy barked from below that she'd forgotten quite how hot her cup of tea still was and successfully burned her bottom lip as she took an inattentive sip.

"Miss Farrell!" Annie called to her as she reached the largest limb of the tree, causing the woman's nerves to stand on edge. "Look!"

"Just, be careful, dear!" Miss Farrell responded with a smile of her own, not wanting to stifle Annie's fun but also knowing that she wouldn't be able to control her hysterics should the child get hurt right before her eyes.

Someone sat down in the chair across from her quite suddenly, causing Miss Farrell to jump slightly and glance over to see Mr. Warbucks now seated across from her. Of course it was him, who else would it have been? Nonetheless, he raised his eyebrows noting her unstable demeanour and gave her a vaguely apologetic look.

Grace turned her attention back towards Annie now calmly and took another sip of her fruity tea as a content smile formed on her lips. "She really does enjoy it here, sir." Oliver too had been watching the energetic child, and he thought of how strange it all was. Days ago, he never would have thought that there would be a little redheaded orphan climbing the apple trees in the garden that he never even bothered to hazard a glance at. He muttered something in agreement and glanced at his secretary for a moment.

"I still can't believe that I sent you for a boy and you came back with a presumptuous little girl." He said, holding back a rare chuckle. It was true tat in the beginning, he'd been quite irritated with Miss Farrell for so blatantly disobeying the simplest of orders. But, as always, he eventually came around to her choices.

Grace really did giggle ever so slightly across from him, still refusing to break her protective stare at Annie who was now climbing down from the tree to play with Sandy on the grass. "Well," she began, "we could use another girl around here." She now let her gaze wander from the child to her employer, who she realized was looking at her quizzically.

"You think so?" He wondered, "Because, from where I'm standing, I feel rather outnumbered, Miss Farrell."

Grace continued to smile, delighted in how wonderful of a day it was turning out to be. The sun was shining, the sound of a child's laughter filled her ears from afar, and she now sat having tea with Oliver Warbucks chuckling across from her. It was all like somewhat of a dream to her after all that she'd grown accustomed to around the mansion. "To be completely honest, sir," since it was now apparently the honesty hour, she began to indulge, "I really  _was_ afraid that you'd send Annie back for a boy instead."

"That's because I  _was_ going to send Annie back for a boy instead." He clarified grimly, and the roughness of his voice told Miss Farrell that he still wasn't  _completely_ enchanted by the child. All the while, she considered the fact that her and Mr. Warbucks were managing to successfully have a rather  _normal_ conversation. Sure, they sometimes sat together like this during their breaks here and there, but most often it was in silence. And if there was talk, it was always of work. But now, he wasn't shouting her name, he wasn't ordering her to do something, he wasn't burdening them both with the stresses of business or the economy, he wasn't raising his voice, they were merely  _talking._

It was almost friendly, at that. Still professional, of course, but friendly, nonetheless. Anyone could see that within those past couple days, there had been a change in him. Even if it was minuscule, even if he did try to hide it, even if he wouldn't under any circumstances  _admit_ to it, Miss Farrell was sure. He was just a  _slight_ bit calmer as he watched Annie run around his expertly landscaped yard, giggling almost hysterically.

"You  _do_ like her, don't you, Mr. Warbucks?" Grace asked innocently, rather nervous to hear his truthful answer but desiring some insight into the man's dark mind regardless of the consequences.

He sighed and set down his coffee cup, staring her in the eyes in such a way that surely would have made her knees weak were she standing up. "I  _tolerate_ her, Miss Farrell."

Grace eyed him, "May I ask what the difference is?" Though she'd worded it to sound less blatantly disputatious, she was not asked  _what_ the difference, but what  _provoked_ that difference, exactly. He picked up on that.

"Between liking someone and tolerating them?" Oliver shifted in his seat and folded his hands together, "The difference is whether or not I would choose to spend time with that person even when it was not necessary. I can deal with having Annie around the house for the week, but would I seek her out if I had a moment to myself? No, not particularly." He finished with a slight smirk, convinced that he'd argued his point meticulously.

Of course, he'd forgotten just how cunning the woman across from him could be. As reasonable as his statement may have sounded, there was a flaw in his logic, and she was about to point that out. "But, sir..." she began with a sly edge to her honey-like voice, "... you have a moment to yourself now and you've managed to seek her out, have you not?"

"Ah," he held up a finger and leaned slightly closer to her from across the small table with a cheeky grin on his own usually stern face, "that's where you're wrong, Miss Farrell. I had a moment to myself and I sought  _you_ out, it's mere chance that Annie and her mangy mutt happen to be close by."

Miss Farrell couldn't help but smile, "I suppose that's a fair affirmation." With their conversation clearly finished, Oliver opened up the newspaper that he'd brought along with him and began reading. Immediately, an expression of consternation morphed its way onto his face, contrasting so drastically the playful smirk that he previously sported. Miss Farrell knew simply based on the look on his face alone that it was time they returned to their daily work.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by Jane Austen, William C. Hannan, Thoreau, and Audrey Hepburn.

> _"There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart."_

As fate and its cruel tricks would have it, the slightly longer than usual break taken by Mr. Warbucks and Miss Farrell that afternoon had cost them both some important work time. Hours later, the atmosphere of their office space was tense, fast-paced, and unbearable for a small, impatient child. The market had dipped without warning yet again earlier that day, and now everyone was trying to keep up with the aftermath. It was currently so busy inside the Warbucks mansion that most of the office staff had completely missed dinner and were staying far later than usual.

Annie had been in and out of the room multiple times, she'd enter and leave after being either ignored or shuffled out quickly by one of the housekeepers who worried for her emotional safety within the intense room. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. She'd been denied attention for too long, and was getting nowhere around the mansion as the cooks, maids, and butlers were all far too busy to pay her much mind. She'd snuck into the office and no one really had the heart to kick her out once more.

Knowing that someone needed to bite the bullet and that  _someone_ couldn't be too caught up in their work, Punjab stepped forward and tried his best to entertain Annie while Mr. Warbucks rambled on loudly and belligerently on various phone calls and Miss Farrell struggled to keep up with his quick words as she wrote up the dictations. Within minutes, Annie and Punjab had made themselves more than comfortable circling the room with model airplanes that they'd found on the mantle.

The child was climbing on the furniture, crawling over Miss Farrell and Mr. Warbucks as she did so, making plenty of noise, and evoking many unceremonious  _comments_ from her noise dog. All things considered, her innocent amusement was causing such a large distraction that no one could really get any work done and eventually, Oliver had had enough. He looked towards Grace in agitation before he blew  up, clearly stating with that one glance that she needed to do something about this rambunctious orphan before he lost his mind.

Miss Farrell met his threatening glance with a blank stare of her own, it was obvious that she had no idea what to do with the child right now. She was just as clueless as he was, perhaps she'd just been better at hiding that until now. She was running out of time, so she began to rack her mind for things that might settle Annie down and let them get back to work. She realized what a shame it would be to send Annie home to the orphanage without really taking her out and allowing her to experience certain things around the city that she'd never get to do while trapped within Miss Hannigan's soul-crushing walls.

"What about a movie, sir?" She suggested, after contemplating what  _she_ would like to do should she find herself in Annie's shoes. The young girl became excited immediately upon hearing Miss Farrell's suggestion, and everyone in the room knew that there was no going back now. Oliver didn't necessarily  _want_ to have Grace out of the house for the night with all the work that needed to be done, but he knew that she was likely the best person to accompany Annie out on the town.

" _Fine."_ Oliver stated sharply, wanting to have the decision made and followed through with so that he could receive some peace and quiet in his home. "Miss Farrell, take her to Radio City, you can finish the dictations in the morning."

Grace flipped her notebook back to the cover page and set her pen down, glancing hopefully at Annie, looking to see her young face lit up with excitement. Instead, she was disappointed to see Annie looking rather melancholy. Before she could even question what the matter was, Oliver took the lead, and the interlude that followed between her employer and the young redheaded orphan was something of a  _wonder_ to her.

Oliver was oblivious at best, but he wasn't  _blind._ He could see the disappointment in the child's face, and he approached the subject harshly when his curiosity with respect to her supposed ungratefulness got the better of him. That was when Annie had decided then and there that she did not want to go to the movies if Mr. Warbucks would not be accompanying her.

He hardened his tired eyes and looked to the child impatiently, "Contrary to what you think, Annie, Miss Farrell doesn't do everything around here." He let his gaze linger fleetingly on his secretary, who seemed uneasy to be pulled into the mess. "I'm a busy man, a  _very_ busy man."

The sob story that followed was most likely true, but anyone could see that Annie was milking it with the intentions of convincing Oliver to take a break for the night and join them at the Music Hall. He knew full well the problems that his irresponsible outing would cause for him tomorrow, but he had to scale the weight of that against the consequences of having an orphan child  _and_ his secretary disappointed in him.

Usually, he would have happily dealt with the aftermath of  _hurt feelings,_ but something had changed within him recently, and one inquiring glance into Miss Farrell's eyes and he was sold. She'd been standing in the corner of the room, uncharacteristically silent, as she watched the whole situation unfold. But, Oliver couldn't ignore the fact that the subtle look of pleading in her blue eyes was similar to that he saw in Annie's.

> _"I still haven't figured out how to sit across from you, and not be madly in love with everything you do."_

As she watched Miss Farrell getting ready for their night out, Annie began to see Grace for someone different than merely the put-together secretary that was prepared for any situation so long as it was a professional one. She saw her with her hair down for the first time as they danced around the room excitedly, and Annie was entranced. She only  _hoped_ that one day she could grow up to look as beautiful as Miss Farrell. Of course, she'd always known that Grace was  _pretty,_ but she was utterly amazed by the enchanting brown curls that framed her face, especially since they were usually tucked up into a professional bun.

" _Wow,_ Miss Farrell!" Annie began enthusiastically, as the woman helped her with her own hair. "You should wear your hair down more often!"

Grace looked up and caught a glimpse of herself in the vanity mirror before them. She'd never truly considered wearing her hair down before while at work, it seemed thoroughly unprofessional. And when she'd first entered the business, she'd  _never_ been taken seriously. She wouldn't jeopardize her professional standing for the indulgences of superficial beauty, of all things. She denied the child her suggestion with a suddenly shy aversion of eyes and shake of her head.

"Mr. Warbucks sure would like it!" Annie went on, causing an unwanted blush to creep its way onto Grace's fair cheeks.

"Oh no, Annie. I just couldn't." Miss Farrell responded, but fought off an uncontrollable smile that only Annie could provoke from her.

Perhaps the child had a point. What would be so wrong about wearing her hair down for  _one_ day? She'd already gained plenty of respect among the mansion, and no one was in any position to question her professional abilities, even  _with_ her hair down. So, what was  _really_ stopping her? Well, she'd always been a woman keen on  _subtlety._ And so blatantly waving her curls in Mr. Warbucks' face could only look like she was trying too hard.

"Trust me, Miss Farrell." Annie began with a sly smile, "A man don't look at your  _brains!"_

Grace couldn't help but giggle as she shrugged off Annie's silly comments. They  _both_ knew that a man was interested in far more than just  _beauty_ when it really came down to it, even Annie was smart enough to realize that at her young age.

> _"There is no remedy for love, but to love more."_

Before the trio even knew it, Annie, Mr. Warbucks, and Miss Farrell - silently accompanied by Punjab, of course - all found themselves seated in the back of Mr. Warbucks' fancy car as it took them down to Radio City Music Hall for their much anticipated showing of  _Camille._ Annie was simply beyond excited, she'd never been to a movie before, and now she was on her way to the most magnificent stage in all of America.

Grace and Oliver stole quick glances at each other as they took in the child's innocent excitement, both glad that they could successfully make her smile even if only for a night. It truly was seeing Annie teeming with anticipation over the simpler things in life that put things into perspective for them. Mr. Warbucks lived in a mansion surrounded by his own personal team of staff ready to wait on his every beck and call. The paycheck that he cut Miss Farrell as well as her lodging in his mansion made it possible for her to lead a similarly privileged life. Young Annie was simply excited to drive down the busy New York streets and catch a glimpse of a toy store here and there.

The three of them had subsequently responded to the tragic movie in quite different ways. Mr. Warbucks, on one hand, was left feeling confused and rather disgusted. If  _love_ truly had to end in a romanticized yet  _morbid_ affair, then he sure as hell wasn't interested. On the other hand, Miss Farrell had successfully succumbed to the wonders of true romance depicted so gloriously by Greta Garbo and Robert Taylor and she sat silently wiping her passionate tears with the handkerchief that Oliver had handed to her once he noticed her quiet weeping.

As for Annie, she had fallen asleep a little over halfway through, leaving the two adults to enjoy the film on their own. Grace was enthralled as she watched the intense scenes play out before her eyes. She'd always been a romantic - a rather  _hopeless_ one at that - and she quite enjoyed films such as this one, as it was the only way she herself could experience a little romance in her otherwise busy life.

When the Lady of the Camellias had finally kicked the bucket in the arms of her one true love, the screen faded to black and Grace and Oliver were forced to face the aftermath of a child put to sleep by a movie that had been far too adult for her young mind. The pair silently looked at each other, and Grace noticed the ignorance in Oliver's untrained eyes. She gave him a rather impatient look and gestured towards Annie.

Oliver now realized that of course he would have to carry the sleeping child back to the car, how did he expect Miss Farrell to bear the burden? There were things that the billionaire was slowly but surely learning about the real world all thanks to that rambunctious little orphan and the woman that had brought her into his life.

Back at the mansion, Grace led the way towards Annie's temporary bedroom, opening the door for her employer as he carried the uncharacteristically tranquil child to bed. What followed could only be described by Oliver as a graceful and masterfully choreographed dance. Grace had never put a sleeping child to bed before in her life, but her hidden maternal instincts must have taken over her mind and soul as she took all the right steps, leading Oliver through the motions though he was far more cautious.

At first, he had stood back and watched in fixation as his secretary took the girl's shoes and socks off softly, so as not to wake her. But, he could only warm the bench for so long, because every dancer needed a partner. Even if Grace had to show him the moves, there was no doubt in her mind that Oliver could be coaxed into it. Without so much as a glance in his direction, Miss Farrell held out the shoes and Oliver couldn't do anything but follow her silent orders and take them from her. "Will you get her nightgown? It's behind the bathroom door." She motioned in the direction of the door as she whispered, and Oliver did what he was told.

"Certainly." He approved, before realizing how loud his unschooled voice seemed in the quiet room and lowering it to a whisper. " _Certainly."_ As he moved to the bathroom and retrieved the nightgown in question, he suddenly lowered his eyebrows upon coming across a realization. How had their roles so easily been switched? All of a sudden, Miss Farrell was in charge, she was the boss, the woman with the demands. And  _he_ was the one with the answers. She lead the situation while he followed her orders with a nod of acceptance. In his  _own_ house. Not that he'd have it any other way.

The two of them silently managed to flip the nightgown to face the correct direction and Grace gently pulled it over Annie's sleeping head of curls. Now, Mr. Warbucks was a mere observer of her dance once again. he had done his part, it was a small part, but quiet the monumental step for him, nonetheless. Glancing at the small black shoes that he had discarded on a nearby chair, he wondered again how Miss Farrell had managed to overtake him without his knowledge. Moreover, he wondered just why he'd been so immediately accepting of her directions.

It was no matter now, he could contemplate his elevation on the social food chain within his mansion later, it was now time for him to see how this little dance came to a finish. When Annie was safely tucked into bed just the way that she liked it and Sandy had settled in next to her protectively, Miss Farrell placed a loving kiss on the young girl's forehead before turning back to Oliver, who watched the scene unfold with an intensely calm but somewhat puzzled look on his usually rugged face. He seemed impressed but taken aback.

"Where did you learn that?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"Learn what?" Grace answered softly, keeping her voice to a whisper so that she wouldn't wake Annie as she gave Sandy a good-natured pat on the head."

" _That!_ Putting her to bed."

Miss Farrell simply smiled at her boss with a quiet laugh and stood up straighter, she'd always liked seeing him impressed with her. "Well, you put her to bed, too!"

Oliver looked from Miss Farrell, to Annie, and back again, supposing that she was right, he really  _had_ had a hand in putting the child to bed. The love in Grace's eyes as she gazed down at the sleeping orphan had not been lost on him, and he suddenly faltered over yet another dubious realization. He hadn't initially known what he'd done by allowing a grubby little ten-year-old into his home and having his secretary look after her. Miss Farrell was a woman full of love and passion, she had no choice but to love the child, and in turn, that child loved her back.

A strange and unfamiliar pain formed in the billionaire's chest when he realized just how much melancholy he would subsequently be causing for Grace when he would soon send the orphan back where she came from. Over the course of her employment at the Warbucks Mansion, Oliver had seen many emotions cross the face of Grace Farrell. He'd seen joy, he'd seen stress, surprise, worry, he'd seen pain, he'd seen them all, really. But, he had only seen a few on her face caused by  _him._ There was the usual stress, worry, and even anger from him. Sometimes, he'd even catch himself prompting a bit of  _joy_ from her delicate face. But, he'd never seen  _pain._

And he was now realizing that he wanted nothing more than to never be the cause of any pain on that woman's face or even in her life at all. As angry as he could get and as unpredictable as his temper could be, he knew very well that Grace was not truly afraid of him, nor did his fast-paced rage cause her any pain or sorrow. He didn't know how he'd be able to live with himself when he would have no choice but to send Annie back to that miserable orphanage. How would he deal with Miss Farrell's emotional fallout? He hadn't a clue, but he certainly wasn't looking forward to it.

She would undoubtedly be crushed without Annie, and Oliver couldn't help but feel responsible for that. This whole orphan thing was a bad idea in the first place. If all he wanted was a little good publicity, he'd pick Annie from the orphanage, take her out for a fancy lunch, have a few pictures snapped, and take her back before any emotional attachment could be made. He would have kept Grace and her feelings out of it completely. But, all the while, he knew in his heart that he didn't regret having Annie here for a moment. Especially not after the night had gone so strangely well.

Noticing Grace looking at him, Oliver cleared his thoughts and attempted to regain a little bit of levelheaded lucidity. He shouldn't place so much value in the emotion of his secretary, it was inappropriate and certainly not useful for a busy man such as himself. He attempted to mentally backtrack by pretending that the real reason evoking his concern was the fact that he had no use for a depressed and distracted secretary in his office.

Grace smiled slightly and nodded towards the door, suggesting that they leave Annie to dream the night away without their presence in her room. When Oliver subsequently found himself holding the door for her as she stepped across the threshold, he nearly kicked himself. He didn't hold doors open, he had doors held for  _him._ Why had she suddenly reduced him to the likes of a  _butler?_ Perhaps, he was only now realizing what it really was like to live as a normal, chivalrous member of society. He was merely treating her the way that that a lady ought to be treated, but when had she become a  _lady_ in his mind? When had she transitioned from Miss Farrell, his private secretary, to an object of his own fancy? He had a feeling that it had been a very long time ago, but he was now simply realizing the affects that she had on him.

With a shake of his head, he managed to again clear his ridiculous thoughts and turned to face his secretary, who he suddenly noticed had a loose strand of hair framing her face in the most alluring of manners. "That really was impressive, Miss Farrell." He stated, still mesmerized by the way that she'd put the child to bed as if she'd done it a million times before, which he knew couldn't have been the case. He truly did wonder where her talents came from.

Grace laughed lightly once more, wondering just how he could find her simple task so awe-inspiring. "It truly was nothing, sir."

"I wouldn't call that nothing!" He went on, refusing to let her downplay the ease that she held with the child. "I can only assume that you've had practice somehow. Tell me, did you have younger siblings?"

Their feet had subconsciously begun to take them down the hallway at a leisurely pace as the two of them made their idle conversation over Oliver's wonderment of what he'd just witnessed. "No, I never did." Grace responded with a shake of her head. She'd been an only child, and an _unwanted_ child, at that.

"Really? Then where on earth did you learn to do that?"

"I don't know, Mr. Warbucks." She said with a slight graceful laugh, "I suppose it's just something that's rather easy to get the hang of. Like I said, you put her to bed just as much as I did." They'd been naturally making their way to his office, though neither of them knew precisely why.

For some reason, Oliver took notice to how she addressed him. For the first time since he'd known her, he developed a distaste for such formalities and began to imagine just how naturally his first name might roll off her tongue. He did find it strange that the two of them could be having such a casual conversation that wasn't business-related in the slightest, and yet they continued to address each other so formally. In fact, he almost lost his ever-present professional composure in that moment of weakness and asked her if she might consider calling him Oliver before his judgement got the better of him.

"I have been meaning to thank you, sir." Grace began as they reached the doors of his office and stood before them, facing each other almost boldly. "I know that having Annie here isn't exactly  _comfortable_ for you, and I know that you wanted me to bring home a boy, at the very least." Oliver did not speak, but his face was calmer than it had been in a very long time. "You could have sent her back, but you let her stay. And I really am very grateful for that, sir." Grace began to smile sheepishly, and his own face soon morphed into an expression similar to hers - she seemingly had that affect on him. "And I also know that I've been asking a lot of you lately, and it isn't really my place to be making requests of you like that, so I do hope you'll forgive me."

" _Forgive_ you?" Oliver certainly hadn't been expecting an apology, nor did he  _need_ one. "Miss Farrell, all you've done is made Annie's time here enjoyable for her and the rest of the staff, I don't mind you making requests. Besides, I believe that you've done more than enough around here to earn a favour or two from myself."

Miss Farrell blinked in welcome surprise. "You really think so?"

He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, did she  _really_ not know just how much he appreciated all that she did for him by now? He knew that he couldn't blame her, he certainly wasn't known for being the most humbly expressive man in the world. "You've been here longer than most other staff members, Miss Farrell. Don't think for a second that I don't notice your importance." His thoughts were taken aback to the other day, when Annie had naively accused him of  _never noticing anything._ At the time, and even now, he couldn't help but feel as though she'd been referring to Grace's role in his life.

Suddenly, Miss Farrell worried that her words might be taken the wrong way, the last thing that she wanted to appear was ungrateful. No matter how changed Oliver may seem out there in the darkness of the hallway, he was still her boss, and she still needed to be sure to maintain their working relationship. "I don't mean to seem unappreciative, sir. I -" Her eyes met his and she promptly forgot whatever it was she was about to say. Instead, she began to speak from the heart that she wore in her eyes. "Being hired by you was the best thing that's ever happened to me." She confessed in a quiet voice, "I don't know where I'd be without this job." She suddenly felt silly telling him how empty her life would be without him even if it was only through the subtext of her words.

Her statement had taken Oliver by surprise, though it shouldn't have. He wondered what the best thing that ever happened to  _him_ was and found himself at a loss for ideas. Perhaps it was his suddenly clouded judgement, or perhaps it was simply the truth, but he couldn't help but wonder if hiring her was the best thing that had ever happened to him as well. "Well, I can candidly say that I certainly would not be where I am today without you." He had meant to say without her professional contribution to his business, but his words had morphed unwillingly. "I mean, without your work here, of course." He added awkwardly, in order to salvage what remained of his tainted pride.

Though he'd attempted to hide the true depth of his revelation, Grace couldn't help but smile. "Really sir, I'm nothing all that special." She said modestly, so quietly that he almost had to strain his senses to catch her words. "I'm certain that anyone else could fill my shoes just as easily." She no longer met his eyes, instead she stared down at his recently-shined shoes.

"I assure you, they could not, Miss Farrell." Oliver stated so definitively that it left no possible room for argument. Grace inhaled quickly and glanced back up at the man. And suddenly, her weariness had vanished and she realized that she did not want to leave his warm presence any time soon. Oliver felt that same panic to keep her close to him, and though it was past ten o'clock at night, they both desired an excuse to spend more time with each other without sounding unprofessional or crossing any well-maintained personal lines.

Luckily, Miss Farrell offered up a suggestion before Oliver had to. "About that dictation, sir..." she began quickly, "... are you sure that it can wait until morning?"

Oliver shifted his weight awkwardly and felt inclined to let her go for the evening, it wasn't fair of him to ask her to stay any later than she already had that evening. But, even he couldn't help but pick up on the enthusiasm that laced her inquiry. "It's been a busy evening, Miss Farrell. You're welcome to turn in if you'd like."

"Oh, it's nothing, really, sir." She shook her head persuasively, "I'd be happy to finish it now." She paused slightly, suddenly wondering if perhaps  _he_ had no interest in any more work that evening. "Unless of course you'd rather leave it for another time," she added quickly, fearing that she'd overstepped, "then, I wouldn't be -"

Oliver noticed the trap that they were about to fall into and raised a hand to put a stop to it. "Let's nip this cycle of courtesy in the bud, shall we, Miss Farrell?" He interrupted with a slight chuckle, opening the door to his office finally and nodding for her to enter. "We're both here now and willing to finish the work, we may as well get to it, then."

> _"The best thing to hold onto in life is each other."_


	10. Chapter 10

> ~~~~_"Never love anybody who treats you like you're ordinary."_

Grace Farrell had been sitting before her vanity mirror for nearly a half hour as she contemplated rather violently whether or not the hairstyle on the woman staring back at her was at all appropriate.

Since the conversation that she'd had with Annie the night before while they were getting ready for their outing, she'd felt more liberated than ever before. She was learning how to see the world through innocent and childish eyes as Annie introduced her to the simpler things in life. Like wearing your hair down. The child made it seem so simple, but Grace knew that she'd be mulling over this minor change in her appearance all day.

What was she even trying to accomplish, here? Was she simply  _daring_ Mr. Warbucks to reprimand her for being unprofessional? That couldn't have been it, he certainly wouldn't give a damn how she wore her hair. She knew that she wasn't entirely doing it for herself. Sure, it would feel nice to have her curly hair free from the tight pins and elastic bands that typically suffocated it daily, but she'd never before had a problem with her business-chic styles.

She knew the truth, it was simply hard to swallow. She was doing it because maybe Annie was right - she usually was. A woman typically  _did_ look better with her hair down, though Miss Farrell had never been vain a day in her life. But, then came the doubt. Did a woman look  _better_ with her hair down or did men simply  _notice_ women with their hair down more? She certainly didn't want to appear as though she was searching for any kind of promiscuous attention, this  _was_ her workplace after all. She was here to work, not  _tempt._ But, really, it was just  _hair._ Oliver likely wouldn't even  _notice._

Nonetheless, it felt unnatural. Her hair wasn't loose, wild, and free by no means, it was still pinned back ever so slightly but her brown curls hung just above her shoulders. Regardless, it wasn't quite right, so she took that alluring hair and twisted it back into her usual bun. She was  _just_ about to leave the room when she'd caught a glimpse of her appearance yet again and was unable to prompt herself officially out the door.

It was Saturday, meaning that  _technically,_ wearing her hair down was completely acceptable. She had some work to do with Mr. Warbucks here and there throughout the day, but Saturdays weren't usually a busy day when it came to business involving her. Besides, she was wearing a casual outfit, as she always tended to do on weekends. The bright yellow chiffon dress that she wore was far different from her everyday business suits, why shouldn't her hair be the same? She gave her reflection a challenging stare and ripped the pins from her hair, styling it back the way it had been before.

There was no reason that she  _couldn't_ wear her hair down, she really didn't even know why her own mind insisted on making such a big deal over a minor grievance. She was finally about to leave her room and embark on her daily journey in the Warbucks mansion when she realized that her door must have been slightly ajar as Sandy suddenly pushed his way through the door and greeted her with a nonchalantly affectionate bark.

He was soon followed by his young redheaded keeper, who said good morning to Grace as politely as the rambunctious young girl could manage, before calling for Sandy and taking off down the endless hallways with the dog hot on her heels. Grace smiled to herself, how nice it was to be saluted by the smile of a child first thing in the morning, it was far different than she'd ever experienced while living within the walls of that cold mansion, that was for sure.

Besides, a house of such grandeur was meant to be shared with people other than staff and business associates. No wonder they'd all managed to feel so lonely until now. But, the mere presence of one orphan and her mangy stray dog managed to turn a once bitter, tense household into one filled with light and joy. As Grace attempted yet again to walk past the threshold, something caught her eye once more, and this time it was not her own reflection staring back at her. It was the calendar that she'd hung on the wall to keep track of her schedules.

She could feel her very heart and soul begin to sink upon noting how quickly the days were passing, and when she realized that they had a mere  _three_ days left with Annie, she suddenly found herself having to fight back unwanted tears. Grace knew that she couldn't spend Annie's last seventy-two hours at the mansion sullen and depressed, anxiously dreading her departure, it wasn't fair to the child. Instead, she steeled herself and mustered up a brave smile. She was going to make those last three days count.

Grace headed out into the garden where she knew that a pot of hot tea would be waiting for her. The minute that she stepped out into the outdoors, she was engulfed by a pleasant warmth. The days were getting colder, and warm days such as this one early October were unusual but certainly welcomed graciously. The golden sunlight was so enjoyable on her previously tense face that Grace just had to close her eyes for a few seconds and drink in its Vitamin D.

When she opened her eyes once more and spotted her employer, reading the newspaper in solitude at the small table in the garden - an entirely different warmth spread over her. The kind of excitement and nervousness that only he could provide her, and it planted a shameful smile on her face. Today shouldn't have been any different than every Saturday that had come before at the Warbucks estate, and yet Miss Farrell knew that her guilt might eat away at her in detrimental ways. Things were changing, and perhaps that was why she suddenly felt just a little bit more brazen than usual.

There was one thought - though it was less of a mere thought and more of a pleading request - bouncing around her mind, and she didn't know if she'd be able to contain it. Nonetheless, she bit her tongue as she moved to join Mr. Warbucks on the garden terrace, pouring herself a cup of fruity tea from the pot that had been sitting on a nearby table before taking a seemingly conventional seat across from him.

Grace couldn't  _see_ Annie, but she knew based on the faint laughter that she could hear ringing through the property that the child was likely out back with one of the gardeners. Smiling at this pleasant sound, Miss Farrell attempted to sit in comfortable silence as Mr. Warbucks read his paper, but knew that she wouldn't be able to fend off her intrusive thoughts for long.

"Good morning, sir." She spoke softly, sipping her tea with serenity on her face as all trouble and worry was forgotten about. Annie was leaving them in three days time, and  _then_ the world could fall apart at her feet. But,  _today?_ Today, she was sitting in the sunshine next to the man that she'd loved for  _years_ while a child whom she adored giggled in the distance. Today was perfect.

"Morning, Miss Farrell." Oliver replied, finally looking up from the Wall Street Journal for only half a second to acknowledge her presence. He'd read only another half a sentence before the usually oblivious man realized that something had changed about his usually routine secretary. Glancing back up at her with curiosity on his expressive face, Miss Farrell gave him a questioning look in return, completely forgetting the mental turmoil that her morning routine had caused her mere minutes earlier.

"Your hair is different." He stated simply, his face thoroughly unreadable. Miss Farrell's heart dropped to her stomach, he was  _angry._ He thought her appearance was unprofessional, he was disappointed that she'd even attempted something so drastic, and he thought she was positively begging for all the wrong kinds of attention. Of course, the man in question didn't see each and every one of those emotions flash across her face, because he was too busy appreciating the fact that he'd forgotten that she possessed such beautiful curls.

On the contrary, of course, he'd only noticed because she looked so very lovely, not because he was offended in any way. But, Miss Farrell was such a nervous wreck around him that she'd feared the worse. Her hand immediately flew to her hair and she began to regret ever  _thinking_ it would be acceptable for her to wear such a bold hairstyle in the workplace. It had been such a silly notion, she simply wanted to try something new - and  _perhaps_ remind her boss that she was his secretary, yes, but also a human  _woman_ \- and now she looked utterly unprofessional. She had to physically fight against the urge to run back to her room and pin it all back into the safety of a bun.

"I," she began, but found herself stuttering involuntarily, "I thought I'd wear it down, today." She was embarrassed to admit that her heart was pounding as her employer stared at her with absolutely  _nothing_ legible on his perplexing face. "Should I -" She was about to ask if he'd prefer her to adjust her appearance back into a professionally presentable manner, but Oliver sat back in his seat and turned his attention back towards his newspaper article nonchalantly as he spoke before she could finish.

"It looks quite nice." He flipped a page.

Grace was stunned into silence as she stared at him in utter confusion. Such a warm statement, spoke with little to no emotion on his face whatsoever. He hadn't even been  _looking_ at her while he spoke, how could she  _ever_ begin to decipher what that man was truly feeling when it came to her if he insisted on remaining so enigmatic? Oliver Warbucks was a man known for  _many_ things, but paying compliments to those around him was not one of them. Miss Farrell fought her hardest against the blush that he'd provoked on her now hot cheeks as she responded quietly, "Thank you, sir."

Annie soon came into view, successfully distracting Grace from her racing mind if only momentarily. With Sandy on her heels and mud on her shoes, Annie ran right by them and entered the mansion through the garden door, in search of new adventures, leaving Miss Farrell to cringe at the thought of the housekeepers noticing the mud stains that the child would inevitably be leaving on the hardwood floors.

But, even Annie's most innocently reckless antics could put a smile on her face. Just thinking about all that they'd done for the penniless orphan - giving her a life of luxury for the week, treating her to her most wildest of dreams - she knew that none of it could equal just how much that the child had done for  _them._ Still, the thought of sending that poor girl back to Miss Hannigan's miserable orphanage was enough to make her shudder.

And Grace couldn't help but feel as though she had the power to potentially change that. She  _had_ to ask, she knew that, or she'd forever regret it. But, how could she possibly look her employer in the eye and ask the absurdly impossible of him? She  _knew_ his answer, and yet that little bit of hope lingered in the back of her mind. The hope that Oliver Warbucks himself had planted there throughout the past few days as he himself grew fond of the orphan.

The request was  _almost_ on her lips, and therefore Miss Farrell had to force herself out of her seat before her voice betrayed her. Busying her hands by pouring another shaky cup of tea, she attempted to calm herself while looking back towards Mr. Warbucks. Her mind was currently so preoccupied that she'd neglected to even pick up her new cup of tea before walking back towards him and standing before her boss without bothering to sit down.

It was clear that she had something to say, the look in her eyes told him that. He may not have been the most perceiving man in the world, but he could read Grace Farrell like a book. And in that moment, she looked as if she was ready to take off running away from him. So, what  _exactly_ did she need before she did so? Her uneasy hovering caused Oliver to set his newspaper down and turn towards her, though she still wasn't receiving  _all_ of his attention as a portion of his mind continued to stress over a prevalent decision that he'd have to make regarding one of his factories.

"That was a wonderful evening you gave Annie last night, sir." Grace nodded with stars in her eyes, a look that she so often wore on her face when regarding the one and only Oliver Warbucks. "Just  _wonderful."_

Oliver sighed and looked away from her, reaching towards his coffee cup but spoke his next thought aloud before even bothering to take a sip. "I'm going to have to close the Pittsburgh factory, Miss Farrell." He stated with a casual intensity about himself, preparing to turn away from her if only she would quit her incessant lingering. She was making him uneasy.

"About Annie..." Grace began, her voice becoming nervously strong though she could feel her heart in her throat. Now, Oliver regarded her in a different manner, he was captivated by whatever she was about to say, and ready to shoot it down without a second thought. He didn't like the way that his secretary's blue eyes were  _burning_ into him, this was clearly a pressing matter in her mind.

"What  _about_ Annie?" He demanded, intrigued but on edge. Regardless of the feeble mask that he'd always been good at wearing, Oliver himself didn't even mind the child anymore. She'd grown on him, the mention of her name didn't evoke any kind of disgust as it once had. In fact, he nearly fought off a smile.

Grace appeared to struggle with herself for a second longer before taking a determined breath and speaking the words that were so painfully etched upon her mind. "Could we keep her?" After blurting out the sentence that in theory, should have been simple, the woman found herself out of breath and lightheaded, gripping her own hands tightly together for support as she awaited the answer to her ridiculous question.

Surprise registered across Oliver's face before that shock turned to disapproval. Grace knew that his answer was not the one that she'd been looking for, so she panicked and interrupted before he could even begin a countering sentence, spewing every single thought she had out into the open in an attempt to give him at least one argument that he liked. "You haven't  _seen_ that horrible orphanage, sir! I couldn't bear to send her back there, I really couldn't!" She was growing almost hysterical now, and Oliver had certainly never seen her like this before. Even he himself knew that for a woman of her standing to ask her respected employer such a dramatic request took some serious dedication to the cause that she was pursuing.

"Miss Farrell, get ahold of yourself!" He really shouldn't have been surprised, her desires were a long time coming. "What's come over you?" Grace had grown attached to Annie and he knew it. Hell,  _he'd_ gotten attached to Annie and everything that came with her. Including the obvious joy that the child brought to his overworked secretary.

"Oh sir, she wouldn't be a bother, I know it!" Miss Farrell pleaded, distress and desperation evidently portrayed in her voice and on her face as she set her embarrassment aside for a later date. She knew full well that her intolerable request could have easily gotten her fired, and it would certainly diminish her credibility with Mr. Warbucks, but she always had a seemingly naive faith that he would do the right thing. "I'd take care of her, you have plenty of room here, the staff adores her, we could take her on as..." Grace quickly listed off the positives before Oliver's booming voice could interrupt and stomp on her wishes, "... well, as your  _ward,_ couldn't we?"

" _Absolutely_ not!" Oliver was quick to respond with a harsh edge to his loud voice that successfully hid his true feelings on the matter. The truth was that he'd never seen this side to Grace Farrell before, and he was  _captivated._ She was desperate to hold on to something that she loved, and  _finally,_ her pent up anger and frustration towards  _him_ was coming out gloriously. She'd usually been good at biting her tongue when she disapproved - which he presumed was often - but now, she was flat out  _arguing._ With him, of all people! She knew that he had the ability to squash her entire career with a simple  _word_ to his public relations team, and yet she remained argumentative.

And that morning, it was not her  _hair_ that reminded Oliver that she was far more than a mere secretary, it was the fire behind her pleading eyes and the quick words that she spoke when quipping with him. "I'm a business man." He stated, gesturing with his hands indefinitely, "I love money, I love  _power,_ I love capitalism. I now and never will love  _children!"_ That was that, there was no question about it, and Miss Farrell's eyes sunk to the ground when she'd realized what she'd done. A blush quickly sprang to her face and she peered at the ground as she timidly began to walk away from him, removing herself from the situation before she could make it any worse.

"Watching you with her last night, I thought maybe..."

Oliver didn't know what exactly possessed him to gently grab her wrist as she walked by him, but he couldn't stop himself. It was as if he needed to keep her in his presence, he  _couldn't_ be responsible for that attractive gleam in her eyes to die out. " _Grace,"_ he said softly, arresting her movement and nearly stopping her heart. Using her christian name felt so natural that Oliver hadn't even noticed that he'd  _done_ so, and yet he now wondered why he hadn't been all along.

Grace's eyes widened as Oliver gently prompted her to sit back down in the chair that she'd previously occupied. When a slight breeze sent the tips of her curly hair dancing around her neck and the reflection of sunlight in her oceanic eyes produced the most intoxicating colour of blue he'd ever seen, Oliver Warbucks realized that he'd been working alongside the most beautiful woman in the world for  _years_ now, and it was about damn time he acknowledged that.

"I've just noticed something." He began, staring into those eyes in such an intense fashion that prompted Grace to hold her breath. And suddenly, the moment was not about Annie nor their current situation nor even the ridiculous request that Miss Farrell had just thrown to the wind. It was about  _them,_ for the first time ever, it was just about the two of them. "You're awfully pretty when you argue with me."

This wasn't quite the revelation that he made it out to be. In the past, he'd found himself guilty of provoking her at times simply to catch a glimpse of that usually controlled temper of hers. Grace sat silently for seconds that seemed like hours as her heart fluttered like a hummingbird inside her chest, before a smile blossomed on her modest face and she spoke with a whisper, "Thank you, sir... but -"

"Oliver." He felt a smile threaten his own lips, and decided that this was no longer a conversation between employer and employee. If they were truly going to discuss Annie's potential residence, this had to be personal. It was a conversation between two adult people, who may or may not have been harbouring some deeply hidden feelings for one another all along and were dangerously close to exposing them for all to see.

" _Oliver."_ She accepted the use of his first name as if it was a gift bestowed upon her. Surely she'd dreamt of this moment once or twice, she frankly couldn't believe her eyes. Oliver Warbucks was looking at her like she  _meant_ something to him.  _Oliver Warbucks._ Nonetheless, there was something that she needed to know. She'd never known how the man felt about her, she'd always assumed that he'd been too busy to cast her a second glance, but perhaps she'd been wrong about that. And now it was time that she discovered the truth.

"Do you  _really_ just love money and power and capitalism?" She asked in a soft but pleading voice that spoke measures. The true question that she was asking was perfectly clear -  _what about me? Don't you love me?_ And the look in Oliver's habitually hard eyes told her everything that she needed to know. Though, a verbal clarification would have been nice. "You know they're never going to love you back." 

Oliver saw her question, but didn't know what to do with it. Until he'd been running around New York City with a penniless little orphan, he wasn't sure that he was even  _capable_ of love. Even now, he was almost certain that he couldn't possibly ever love a woman in the proper way that they deserved to be loved. And when had  _Miss Farrell_ ever been a  _woman_ to him? She was his secretary, it was ridiculous and yet it all seemed to come down to this moment. Although, he was now realizing that perhaps if he'd been certain of any romantic feelings on her part that he'd have admitted he loved her long ago.

That being said, all these realizations came flooding in at once and congested his thoughts. He wasn't sure all that she was asking of him, and he certainly didn't know how to answer such a hard-hitting question, and his twisted mind suddenly noticed something completely endearing and  _irrelevant_ to their conversation. "Your teeth are crooked." Oliver stated, still staring into her eyes though he referenced her teeth.

Grace drew back ever so slightly as her eyes cast downwards yet again, straightening her posture and realizing that she'd perhaps crossed a line. Not only that, but that Oliver didn't really  _care_ about anything that she was saying. On the contrary, actually, he cared so deeply that his mind panicked and shoved those thoughts away. "I'll have them fixed." She decided softly, through her obvious displeasure as she folded her hands dejectedly in her lap.

"I like them crooked."

Grace's eyes shot up once more, this time they were filled with delight. Here sat  _Oliver Warbucks_ listing something that he  _liked_ about her. The day truly was monumental. And speaking of  _crooked,_ the smile that he gave her certainly was just that, but filled with teasing joy nonetheless.

"I'll leave them." Grace agreed through her uncontrollably smiling face before turning back to the matter at hand, "I could have the papers signed this morning." Her voice was soft and questioning, as if she was afraid if she spoke too loud that it would burst their pleasant little bubble.

Oliver narrowed his eyes in thought and leaned in closer to her, taking hold of her hand as he did so and sending shivers down her spine. "This means a great deal to you, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Grace agreed weakly, and Oliver realized that the hope inside her eyes was what meant a great deal to  _him,_  "it means a great deal to me."

Oliver nodded with a glint in his own eyes, prepared to give this woman the world even if she  _was_ merely his secretary. After this many years of dealing with his own monstrosities, didn't she deserve this much? "I'll get them signed myself."

The sheer and utter beauty upon her face that came with her raw relief-induced delight was something that could never be forgotten. Upon seeing the wide smile she produced, Oliver knew immediately that he'd made the right decision. Besides, it wasn't  _all_ about the strange desire to please Miss Farrell - Oliver knew that he cared for Annie, he simply had refused to admit to it until now. He saw the joy that the child brought to his house, to his staff, and to  _himself._ He wanted the child for his own just as badly as Grace did, leaving him with really only one viable option - sign those adoption papers.

" _Oh,"_ Grace beamed with jubilation, "I could just  _kiss_ you!" Her eyes widened merely a beat after she'd realized what she'd said and knew that she needed to excuse herself from Oliver's presence. If anyone had told Oliver Warbucks that his private secretary, Grace Farrell, would one day exclaim thoughtlessly that she could just  _kiss_ him, he would have suggested that they check into a mental institution. Surely he would have secretly revelled in the notion, but he knew that he  _had_ to view a statement such as that as incredibly unprofessional.

But  _now,_ after all they'd been through, after realizing that perhaps he'd been in love with the woman since they first met, he nearly laughed aloud in sheer exuberance produced by her careless statement. Imagine! Grace Farrell, wanting to kiss  _him!_ When she smiled timidly and rose to leave, he knew that it was for the best. They'd gotten awfully close to taking things a step too far this morning and it was only safe for the both of them to leave the other be for now so as to regain their professional working relationship.

Knowing this, Oliver called after her with a task that he deemed appropriate for his secretary. "Oh, and Grace?" He noted the use of her first name yet again and wondered why he kept accidentally using it. He made a mental note to erase the name from his mind so that he could never fall victim to her charms again, it was entirely inappropriate of him.

"Yes?" She turned around quickly, unbeknownst to Oliver that the hope behind her eyes did not stem from the excitement of adopting Annie, but from the wish that perhaps he was stopping her to stride right over her to kiss her and confess all the things that she'd forever longed to hear. Grace knew that it was a pipe dream, Oliver Warbucks didn't  _feel_ things. And besides, she may have admired him atrociously since the day that they'd met, but she'd never been under any assumption that he would return her unprofessional feelings.

"Get her a gift, or something." He suggested, still grinning.

Grace was happier than she'd ever been - how well her morning had gone! She'd worn her hair down and Mr. Warbucks not only noticed but openly expressed that he  _took_ to the hairstyle. Then, when she'd foolishly asked if they could keep Annie with them at the mansion, he told her that she was  _pretty,_ even when so blatantly disobeying him! And after all that was through, he'd agreed to take Annie on just as she'd asked.

But, she knew that she couldn't let her thoughts run astray. Her feelings for him were no secret to her - as Oliver's for her were to him - and she knew that she was merely setting herself up for heartbreak should she allow silly romantic notions to get away on her. Oliver did love Annie, that was the bottom line. Her persuasion to have her stay at the mansion had nothing to do with Miss Farrell herself nor any feelings that Oliver may have for her, it had to do with the fact that Oliver wanted Annie to stay.

She was wrong, of course, Oliver loved Annie like his own  _and_ he had more feelings for Grace than either of them could possibly know. But, she'd always been a smart woman. And it was time to return to reality.

> _"You always gain by giving love."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by Oscar Wilde and Reese Witherspoon.


	11. Chapter 11

> _"Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning."_

That seemingly happy autumn day ended very differently than how it had begun.

Though, to some, it never really seemed to end. It was closer to morning than it was to midnight now and many of Mr. Warbucks' office staff were still working feverishly alongside him. Things were different now, the stakes were higher.

And in reality, Mr. Warbucks and Miss Farrell were both kicking themselves as they drowned their useless emotions in their work. They should have considered this. They'd both simply assumed that Annie would  _want_ to be adopted, they hadn't considered any outside factors. Like the fact that the child believed she still had parents out there somewhere,  _real_ parents. Of course Annie loved Oliver and Grace and would have loved to live with them in the mansion and form their own complicated little family, but there were many things to take into consideration.

Her whole life, Annie had dreamed of her parents returning for her. She'd forever been hoping to see two perfect parents show up at the orphanage doorstep just as they'd done ten years ago only this time, they were taking her back to the life that she was destined to live. She now felt only guilty that she wanted to say yes to Oliver's proposal with all her heart. Annie knew that she had to be true to her blood, she had to wait for her parents. But, Oliver could help her with that.

The work persisted through the night because plans needed to be made. Newspapers were contacted, radio shows, private investigation academies, the New York City Police Department, even the president himself was on the line. But, for Oliver and Grace, the work served as a proper distraction from the utter heartbreak that they were both now experiencing.

Oliver Warbucks was mad. This wasn't the same kind of anger upon investing in a poor choice of stock or making the wrong call when dealing with certain aspects of his business that would result in him losing money. He was furious because, against  _all_ his better judgement, he'd finally allowed himself to care for the sake of another person and now it was coming back to bite him just as he was afraid it would. He was angry at Annie for twisting his arm and provoking his paternal affections, he was angry at Grace for bringing Annie into their lives to begin with - he knew that was really true, but in that moment he felt it needed to be felt - and for persuading him to sign those damned adoption papers.

Of course, all this misdirected anger paled in comparison to the rage that he felt within - rage that was all directed at himself. After he'd quit school back when he was a kid and got on board that wretched ship, he knew one thing and one thing alone - when it came to personal relations, it simply wasn't worth it. He'd felt loss, he knew what it was like to love someone and to have them ripped away from you, and he would happily trade the feeling of love in for good if it meant he never had to suffer loss. And now, here he was, recklessly throwing his love away only to have no good come of it.

Well, perhaps there was  _some_ good. Thinking back to how happy he'd made Miss Farrell earlier in the garden, he was reminded that there might be  _some_ good left in the world. Not his world, though. Because, after they found Annie's parents and she left them for good, Oliver knew very well that he would have to close himself off even more harshly than he'd been before simply to get through the pain of losing that child's presence in his life. If he couldn't care for an  _orphan_ without it hurting him in the end, he certainly couldn't give in to the acknowledgement of his fragile feelings for the woman that he loved.

Finally, there was nothing more than anyone could do but wait. The calls had been made, the interviews had been set up, and the days ahead had been planned. When a lull finally fell upon the room, Oliver dismissed his staff while he stared down at some unreadable documents in his hands. He should have known that Grace would linger in the office after everyone had left, but still found himself surprised to hear her voice ring out through the room that was now empty save for the two of them.

"Oliver," she began gently, and the use of his first name opened a floodgates of memories consisting of sunshine, blue eyes, curly hair, and crooked teeth, "I'm sorry." Grace spoke timidly, wanting to express her condolences all the while warily doing so as she sensed her boss's all-consuming anger. "I can't help but feel responsible for all this."

Mr. Warbucks lowered his eyebrows in confusion, " _Responsible?"_ He reiterated, his voice much louder than hers. Yes, he'd been angry mere seconds ago, but now had uncharacteristically shifted his entire being to reassure her. "Grace, how could you think that?"

She sighed and looked away from him as cold, desperate tears tainted her eyes, "This morning in the garden, I never should have suggested that she stay..." her voice wavered, and she felt a stray tear fall down her cheek, "... had I know that..." her sentence trailed off, unfinished.

Oliver had always said that when it came to  _love,_ he simply wasn't good enough. And that never really bothered him. He'd also always said that he never knew what to do with a weeping woman, though as he now reached across his desk and took her hand in his while they shared their sadness, he did so naturally and without even thinking. How far he'd come from handing her his handkerchief upon noticing her tears during a sad movie.

"I don't want you thinking for a second that any of this is your fault." His voice was softer than it had ever been while sitting in his office, "If it wasn't for you, none of us would ever have met Annie. You were the one who brought her into our lives in the first place."

Grace couldn't see now how that was a good thing. "That's  _precisely_ my -"

She almost pulled her hand away out of her own self-disgust, but Oliver only squeezed it tighter. "We were living  _mechanically,_ Grace." He stated, Annie sure had opened his eyes. "It wasn't normal, it certainly wasn't doing us any good, and you know that better than I do. The adoption was for the sake of Annie's happiness, was it not?" Grace nodded weakly, "Now, the only way we can give her that happiness is by finding her parents. I know that this isn't what we were hoping for, but it's what she's always wanted, we can't stand in the way of that."

Theoretically, Grace should have had nothing to do with Annie's adoption. Oliver would be the child's adopted father, Grace would merely be a member of the staff that helped out when it came to the child. And yet, Oliver now spoke as though Annie's adoption was something that the two of them would be taking on hand in hand. For someone who days ago had no interest in a  _family,_ he certainly now had more family than he knew what to do with.

Grace stared up at him in sullen agreement as another selfish tear streaked her face. The tender moment was so uncharacteristic between the two of them, and yet it felt perfectly natural. They both were now beginning to wonder why they'd worked so closely for so many years and yet had never sought comfort in one another until now. Of course, they both knew the answer to that question.

They were playing a dangerous game, that was clear now. Obviously to both of them, they had individually come to realize some strong feelings over the course of that last week, but they had to be kept under wraps due to the less than desirable circumstances. Grace, of course, had been in love with him for years, and it had slowly been driving her mad. Whereas Oliver had realized all at once that he'd been in love with her for the same amount of time, and that particular realization was crushing him.

All the while, they were mourning the premature loss of the child that they'd both come to love and cherish. It was hardly the time for a romance to be sparked up, and besides, Oliver wasn't sure that Miss Farrell returned his feelings and vice versa. Other than the minor flirtation that they'd experienced today, Grace had no real reason to believe that he saw her as anything other than his secretary. She knew better than anyone that Oliver Warbucks was not the romantic type, she knew that he hardy believed in the concept of love and that he certainly didn't believe himself to be capable of anything of the sort. Of course, Annie was the exception.

As for Oliver, he was fairly certain that she couldn't love him. She was full of hope and joy and brightness whereas he might be considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, but he was far too cold and bitter to be suited to someone like her. And in the end, it was those destructive thoughts that abolished their chances.

"It's late." Oliver cleared his throat upon letting go of her hand and feeling the room immediately grow colder. "You should get some rest, Miss Farrell. Tomorrow will be a long day."

Grace nodded with no real emotion on her face. Yes, she'd taken notice of the use of her formal title, but she hadn't truly been expecting anything different. They were employee and employer, they were professionals, and if they had any hope of working with each other in the future, this is simply how it had to be.

She truly was exhausted, though she had a feeling she wouldn't be getting any real sleep even after turning in for the night. Wiping her eyes as she stood from her chair, her voice was empty as she spoke. "You're right." Oliver walked her to the door, both sharing the same exhaustion that they hadn't realized either of them had been hit with. They both stood in the doorway and turned to face each other, "This is what's best for her, right?" Grace's question was more of a cry for reassurance than anything else.

Oliver nodded and looked down at her confidently solemn, "This is what's best for her."

"Thank you, Oliver." Perhaps it was a plea to remain in his presence, but Miss Farrell began to speak all the words that she needed to say to him with respect to Annie, they were seemingly long overdue. Her voice had been so quiet and tired that Oliver was unsure if he'd even heard her say anything at all or merely imagined it. "You could have sent her back when I didn't bring home a boy, you could have simply ignored her all week until it was time to take her back to the orphanage, you could have sent her back at the end of the week as planned without a second thought. But, you let her stay even after I disobeyed you, you made her time here just lovely, and you didn't even call me crazy when I asked you to keep her. These things were all very inappropriate of me to even  _think_ about asking you, and you agreed to it all. I -"

Before she could spin into a tangent, Oliver shook his head, slightly bemused. "Grace, I think you've got this all backwards. It's  _I_ who should be thanking  _you."_

"You..." Grace began, tilting her head as she spoke, "... you should?"

"There is an element of charm about you, I think." Oliver began, a seemingly teasing tone to his voice that almost managed to loosen the tension during such a heavy tie. "A charm that persuades me to do just about anything, or so I've come to learn." He had said too much, but didn't regret it. Come tomorrow, he could pretend that he'd never confessed to such a thing, but for now, he needed to see that timid joy that he'd provoked from Grace. "So, thank  _you._ For convincing me to let her into our lives."

Grace stared, knowing but not particularly caring that her heart was in her eyes. She knew that there was nothing more to be said, so she took in a breath and nodded in acceptance. "Try to get some rest, tonight." She suggested softly, daring to rise onto her toes and place a gentle kiss on Oliver's cheek before leaving his presence and escaping to the dreadful solitude of her own room.

> _"Those who are hardest to love, need it the most."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by Paulo Coelho and Socrates.


	12. Chapter 12

> _"I would find you in any lifetime."_

With Annie's happiness at stake, nobody had slept soundly through the night. Oliver Warbucks stayed up working until morning was upon them, Miss Farrell knew full well that she wouldn't be getting any rest so she simply changed into a brand new work outfit and prepared herself for the day ahead, and Annie tossed and turned all night - in turn, keeping Sandy awake - wrestling with the excitement and anxious anticipation that came with the potential of finding her parents.

By five in the morning, when the birds finally began to sing warily and the Warbucks mansion slowly woke up, the entire household was feeling dreary. Oliver had been up in his office all night, meaning that come morning, he was nursing a relentless hangover, while Miss Farrell still remained dejectedly sitting on a small chair in her bedroom, staring out the window at the courtyard below.

The world was still at such an early hour, but sunlight was peaking through the trees. Grace had been silently crying all through the night, but had touched up her makeup about an hour ago. Meaning that if she were to begin weeping once more now, there would be no going back. Considering this, she bit her bottom lip and attempted to distract herself to no avail. But, as she stared out at the courtyard, all she could think of was the game of hopscotch that she'd watched Annie play out there the other day.

Due to the intrusively bittersweet memory forcing itself upon her, she turned her attention to the garden. But, it turned out to be just as painful, because now, staring out at the green grass and freshly trimmed rosebushes, she was taken back to yesterday morning, where she'd thrown caution to the wind and asked for the one thing that was truly unthinkable. It was where she'd finally begun to notice the shift that had happened between her and her boss, where they suddenly went from being Miss Farrell and Mr. Warbucks to Grace and Oliver.

She now felt hot tears begin to sting her eyes once more as she realized that all that had been said in the garden might as well have never happened. When Annie left for good, Oliver would close himself off even more than he had been previously, certainly leaving no room for any feelings he might have for someone as insignificant to him as his private secretary, Grace knew that.

Perhaps that was all for the best. Their hopeful feelings were all brought out thanks to Annie's lighthearted affect on the household, they shouldn't persist without her, even if they'd been there all along and would forever linger. If there was ever a chance for Oliver and Grace to become something more than employee and employer, that chance was gone now.

Grace sighed angrily when she'd realized that - against her best efforts - the tears had come anyways, and she'd tried to wipe the dark smudges under her eyes away with frustration. There was nothing more she could do but be happy for Annie, anything else was pure selfish. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she realized that she'd been torturing herself in thought for over an hour, and it was now inevitably time to leave the safety of her room and begin the painful day that was to come.

Knowing that she would need a cup of highly-caffeinated tea to kick start this already dreadful day, Grace soon found herself pushing open the door to the kitchen. Upon her arrival, she was surprised to find that she was not alone. Thinking back, she should have realized that she hadn't passed any of the other staff while she'd made her way to the kitchen, and now here they all were. Gathered around the small table, sitting motionlessly and in mournful distress, was Mrs. Pugh, Cecile, Annette, Drake, Mrs. Greer, and a few others.

Apparently, she was not the only one who had managed to evade sleep the night before, that was clear now as Grace took a seat dejectedly beside Drake, sighing deeply. Some part of her felt a bit of relief to know that the others were taking Annie's departure just as uneasily as she. They all sat in understanding silence for quite some time, sharing each other's sadness, squeezing hands, and disguising a few straying tears. The only thing that rang through the silent kitchen on that bleak morning was the sound of Annette's quiet sniffles, a sound that soon evoked a welling in Miss Farrell's own eyes.

Finally looking around herself, Grace noticed that she was not the only one to fall victim to her emotions. Mrs. Greer hid her face in her hands, Cecile was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, and Mrs. Pugh's cheeks were far from dry, though the proud woman would likely blame it on a strange case of some autumn allergies. Guilt suddenly washed over Grace, and she felt herself sink lower into her chair out of self-disappointment.

"I think," she began, steadying her voice when it inevitably wavered, "I think it's time that we all cheer up, or at least pretend to. For Annie's sake." She finished, wiping away an insufferable tear. Her voice had been low and cracking with emotion, but the party surrounding her knew that she was correct. They had to be adults about this, they couldn't let the child feel guilty over their own self-seeking pain.

"Miss Farrell is right." Drake said, in a voice far more reassuring than Grace's fragile one had been. "If Annie saw our reactions to her wanting to find her parents..." he paused, taking in the solemn faces around the table, "... well, the poor child would be crushed. It isn't fair to her."

"It'll just be a shame to see the household go back to the way that it used to be." Mrs. Pugh said, sending a pointed glance towards Miss Farrell as the only woman knew just how personal the whole situation was for her. "Especially now that we've seen just how it  _could_ be." Grace felt a pang twist her heart, it was true. Obviously, there had been some unprofessional feelings lingering between her and Mr. Warbucks forever, but it took Annie's presence to make the man see that. And of course, Grace felt as though they were becoming a real family, a family that even  _she_ was a part of, and now she would be losing that for good.

It was no secret to most of the staff that Miss Farrell adored their employer, and they knew that if the man had any sense at all, he would realize that he loved her just as much. In fact, they'd all been rooting for the two of them for quite some time now. But, that was all about to crumble around them. All potential for happiness, for joy, for a less money-obsessed household - out the window.

Now, Grace didn't even know if there was anything to persist between her and Oliver, or if she should even continue to refer to him as that, even if only in her head. Perhaps it would be safer for all of them if she only thought of him as Mr. Warbucks, once again. They'd shared some meaningful moments recently, they'd been tender and romantic, they'd used first names and done things to make the other happy. He'd held her hand and she'd kissed her cheek, they supported each other. But, she knew that she'd be foolish to assume that any of that was not brought on by euphoria and desperation.

Knowing that she was selfish to think of her own personal feelings towards him during a time like this, Grace tried to chase them away. Though, she continued to wonder where she even stood with Oliver. Nonetheless, her question may have been answered not a minute later when Mr. Warbucks himself threw open the kitchen door angrily. The entire table jumped at the interruption, it was strange to see him back there, he very rarely even set foot in the kitchen, and everyone could see the furious impatience behind his eyes. Miss Farrell stood immediately, fidgeting nervously with her hands, and the others soon did the same.

"What the  _devil_ is going on here?" Oliver boomed, his voice filled with unchecked rage that was soon to be unleashed on anyone who got in his way. A visible cringe passed through the room as they all realized that they should have been at their posts doing their jobs over a half hour ago. "We've a  _very_ busy day ahead of us!" He shouted, staring each one of them in the eyes as he reprimanded. " _Now,_ you can imagine my  _confusion_ as I make my way through the house this morning and am unable to locate a  _single_ one of my staff members!"

He was exaggerating, of course, but they were still in the wrong. They all quickly offered up apologies and averted their eyes as they fled the room and got to work, save for Mrs. Pugh, who returned to the back of the room to continue preparing a small breakfast for Annie, and Miss Farrell, who had been eyeing Mr. Warbucks conscientiously as he'd spoken. Her stares were not lost upon him, but he did not feel strong enough to indulge her this morning.

He simply glared back at her, suddenly feeling smaller under her scrutiny, but cleared his throat and straightening his shoulders, refusing to let her get the better of him. He needed to be in control today, and lately she hadn't been allowing him to do so. " _Miss Farrell,"_ his voice was just as loud as before, and the woman's heart dropped when she heard the use of her professional address. So, that's how things were, she'd gone back to being Miss Farrell. She really shouldn't have expected anything less, "if you would be so  _kind_ as to accompany me to my office, where you should have been an  _hour_ ago, we could get started on today's work!"

"Yes, sir." She said softly, staring at the floor so intently as they walked away, not daring to meet his eyes. Oliver stiffened as she addressed him so formally - it was such a harsh contrast from when she'd sweetly whispered his first name in the garden the morning before - but knew that this was for the best. For him to go on ignoring his intense feelings for her would be the safest way to ensure that he was never hardened by the loss of yet another person.

> _"I love you, and that's the beginning and end of everything."_

The following three days passed simultaneously quicker than ever before while drawing out painfully and relentlessly. Sunday consisted of visiting the one and only Bert Healy's radio show, something that - just as Grace had suspected it would - did not go as planned. When Oliver had been given a script before going on the air, they should have known that it was a ploy and that he'd end up endorsing something when all he wanted to do was help Annie find her parents. Of course the show's producers simply couldn't help themselves from viciously profiting from the billionaire's presence in their studio.

Oliver may not have known what he was saying while he did so, but he was no idiot, and by the time he had finished reading from the papers before him, he threw the crumpled pages to the floor and attempted to storm out of the room while beginning to shout, "Did I just do a commercial?" He yelled, still on the air, while whipping around in search of his secretary. " _Miss Farrell!"_ He began, and continued shouting as she quickly prompted Annie to her feet, anticipating their quick departure from the studio.

" _Never_ in all my  _years..._ " Oliver droned on as he held the door for Grace as she ushered Annie out of the room, turning back to take Oliver's arm and prompt him to join them when she realized that he was lingering behind, continuing to berate the production operators.

When they all returned to the mansion, Annie immediately ran to Drake, to see if by chance her parents had already heard the commercial and had come looking for their baby. Grace's heart sank when she saw just how high Annie's hopes were and sent a nervous glance towards Oliver, who too saw just how hopeful the child that he loved was. They both truly  _did_ hope that whoever Annie's parents were, they came back for the poor child. It was all that she had ever wanted, and she was far too innocent to forever believed that her parents did not want her. Of course, that would also mean Annie leaving the Warbucks' mansion for good, taking all hope, joy, and laughter with her.

Oliver returned Grace's worried look, but steeled himself before looking away and leaving her to follow him silently to the office where they worked - once again - long through the night as they tried to balance their daily work with everything that they had to do in order to help find Annie's parents. An investment made there, a phone call with a private investigator there, and assessing the stock  market in between meetings with the New York Police Department. It all made for a series of very long days and far too little sleep.

Monday morning brought on a rather frantic feeling to the entire household. The first day of conducting interviews was upon them, and the lineup of couples claiming to be Annie's parents wound all the day down the block. Miss Farrell stood on the second floor patio outside of Mr. Warbucks' office and stared out at the queue of scheming liars while the man himself sat inside at his desk and smoked a cigar for dear life.

"Mr. Warbucks, sir..." she called from outside, and Oliver struggled to hear her in slight irritation, "... I think you'd better come see this." Grace was dreading having to interview every single one of those couples throughout the day, but she was the sole person on the job, and she hardly had a choice. She would have to come face to face with each and every liar if any of them wanted to get one step closer to finding Annie's real parents.

Mr. Warbucks rolled his eyes impatiently and placed his cigar temporarily in the glass ashtray on his desk, clearing his throat while wondering what could  _possibly_ be so horrifying as to provoke that specific edge of fear in his secretary's voice. Taking a stand beside her outside, he gripped the cold railing of the patio while the initial shock of the multitude of people outside his mansion hit him.

After sighing deeply, Oliver realized that he shouldn't have been shocked at all. Money brought out the worst in people, he knew that better than anyone. Most people are selfish and greedy by nature, of course a reward as large as the one that he had offered would attract hundreds of people all craving a piece of his hearty fortune.

Grace had been thinking the same thing, but suddenly her thoughts drifted to Annie. This wasn't something that she should witness. The poor child didn't need to be subjected to the amount of deceit as people attempted to convince them all that they were her parents merely to make a profit. Was all that the child was reduced to? A cheque?

"I don't think that Annie should see this." She announced quietly, feeling rather disheartened herself. Her employer glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before his gaze returned to the street below, filled with deceivers. "Chances are that every single of one these people are lying, this will only hurt her."

Now, Oliver really looked at her, hoping that she would do the same so that they could have a proper conversation, but it appeared that his secretary could not look him in the eye. He didn't blame her, not after all the games that they'd been playing with each other recently. For a beautiful but fleeting day, they did not act professional, and their true feelings rose to the surface. Of course, there was no way to forget about any of it, but they sure as hell could pretend as though it had never happened. Of course eye contact would be difficult.

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but wonder just how his secretary was holding up through all this dreadfulness. He knew that he'd promised no longer to care, but today would certainly be a long one for him, and he'd told himself that his concern was merely for her professional wellbeing. "I'll take her out." Oliver stated, his voice rather empty, contrasting hers which was always so filled to the brim with emotion. "There's someone that I need to speak with anyway, Annie can come along." The heavy silence that followed between the two of them went unnoticed on Grace's part, she was still enthralled by the sheer amount of people lined up before them.

"Miss Farrell," Oliver began strongly, noting just how strange it felt not using her first name. How had he let it get this far? For him not to feel comfortable referring to her by the name that he'd always used to address her managed to prove to him just how over his head he truly was. Grace was pulled from her trance upon hearing his loud voice finally register in her ears as she finally stared up at him, "will you be alright handling all this?" She was surprised to see the concern on his face, she'd thought that he would try to cover it up a little better, knowing him. "There must be close to five hundred people down there, it'll be an awful lot of work for one person."

Though she was dreading it, this might be the perfect way to distract herself from her solemn thoughts regarding learning to live once more without Annie's presence in her life. "As much as I appreciate your concern, sir..." Grace began, glancing back down at the crowd, "... I think this might be the best thing for me, right now." With one last cautious glance his way, she moved to leave the office. "I'll go get Annie ready."

> _"We loved with a love that was more than love."_

Later that evening, after Miss Farrell had spent nearly nine hours interviewing people who'd simply turned out to be one liar after the next, the autocopter landed once more at the mansion. Grace sighed in relief, thankful that she'd finished the last interview of the day a few minutes ago and that Annie didn't have to witness any of it. She'd been standing near the door, staring out the large window beside it as she leaned against the wall, awaiting the return of Annie and Mr. Warbucks. She realized now that the worst was yet to come. She'd interviewed over eight hundred couples, none of them knew about the locket.

Now, to tell Annie that close to a thousand people had come for her, but her parents hadn't. It all got her to thinking, was finding her parents even what was best for the child at this point? If they were to return now after the reward was offered, wouldn't it simply go to show that they only cared to have their daughter back for the sake of the money? Surely Annie would be better off in a home full of people who truly loved her for  _her,_ and that home was  _here._

Though she'd been sitting down behind a desk all day, her feet were suddenly aching as she quietly made her way towards the entrance once she heard the sound of Annie's quick footsteps. Oliver quickly glanced in her direction, upon noticing her appearance in the foyer, and immediately knew with one look into her sullen eyes that she had not been successful in finding Annie's parents. Knowing this, he hung back a bit, not wanting to have to be too close when Annie received the bad news. It was cowardly of him, he knew. But, he didn't want to have to see the sunken shoulders of that little orphan nor wanting to witness the desperately solemn look in his secretary's blue eyes.

Unfortunately, the sentiment was so present in Miss Farrell's eyes that he could see it even from where he was standing, and he no longer had any reason to hang back. After receiving the bad news, Annie had put on a brave face and attempted to be optimistic for tomorrow, but she retreated to her room in a rather disappointed manner. No one blamed her. Even after being offered a wealthy sum, her true parents were out there somewhere and  _still_ didn't want her. That was hard for  _anyone_ to swallow, let alone an orphan child.

Now alone, Oliver looked to Grace in questioning concern, wondering if she was alright without so much as uttering a word. She looked away from him and set her gaze to focus on the limbs of an apple tree out the window in the garden that was dipping in the cold wind. "I never knew how many dishonest people there were in New York." Her voice was raw, and even Oliver could see that she had hit rock bottom.

She'd always been the most positively optimistic person that he'd known, not even his own harsh moods and constant self-persevering pessimism could falter her gracious smiles. For something to actually tear down her spirits and kick the optimism and open-mindedness right out of her couldn't mean anything good. And this did nothing to reassure him. He didn't know what to say in order to console her, he didn't know what he  _could_ say. Instead, he nodded in her direction knowingly and they both made their way in solemn silence back to Oliver's office.

Once inside the quiet room, Oliver quickly sat down, but Grace remained on her feet, the thought of sitting down any longer today turned her face sour. Instead, she'd taken to pacing slowly before his desk while he worked. It was irritating and distracting to him, but he initially did nothing to stop her, everyone dealt with their grief in different ways. As for him, he poured himself a glass of brandy.

Oliver took a phone call that lasted nearly twenty minutes, and he'd almost welcomed the distraction. It was Hoover, calling to say that the efforts of the Bureau had unfortunately not been successful that day. When the dejecting call was finished, Oliver had been put into a rightfully foul mood. He was irritated, impatient, and would no longer stand for his secretary's distractions. " _Miss Farrell,_ would you  _stop_ your  _incessant_ pacing?"

The woman flinched, remembering where she saw, and immediately took a seat in her usual chair before his desk. "Sorry, sir." She mumbled, her mind still far away.

Rubbing his forehead, Oliver turned around in his chair to glance at the clock behind him. It wasn't early, but it wasn't nearly as late as the evening before had been. In front of him, a very distracted Grace Farrell shivered a bit and even he could tell that she was having trouble keeping her eyes open, as much as they might both dread sleep.

"It's been a long day, Miss Farrell." He began with a sigh, "You can turn in for the night, if you wish." While it was very true, she'd had an extremely busy day, there was still work that needed to be finished. Of course, it wasn't anything that couldn't wait until morning, but Grace longed for a distraction.

"If it's all the same to you, sir..." she desperate look in her eyes was hidden by her professionalism, but he caught the waver in her voice nonetheless, "... I'd prefer to stay and finish any work that needs to be done."

Oliver was about to dismiss her and send her away, but that look in her eyes managed to shine through for a slip second, and he realized just  _why_ she wanted to stay. Sleep would either be impossible or unpleasant, he was familiar with the concept. What he didn't realize, was that he was the only person that managed to make her feel less alone during this trying time, she'd do anything she could to remain in his presence for as long as possible. "Very well."

> _"Who being loved, is poor?"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by Kanye West, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Edgar Allan Poe, and Oscar Wilde.


	13. Chapter 13

> _"I am, and always will be, yours."_

Tuesday was when it all went to hell.

Oliver and Grace simultaneously referred to this day as either the worst or the best of their lives. It all depended on whether or not one considered how it all ended.

It began just as the day before had - on the patio of Mr. Warbucks' office, staring down at the hundreds of brand new people lining up once more. Grace shuddered beside him as she thought about reliving the day before and just how awful she knew that it would be.

"You know," her employer began, in a voice that was surprisingly sweeter than she'd heard from him in days, "I really hate seeing you have to deal with all this a second day."

Grace sighed, "It  _is_ my job, sir."

"I know..." he trailed off, but glanced at her tired face sidelong, "... Should I send in someone to help you? I'm sure -"

"It really is fine, Mr. Warbucks." She interrupted, turning to look at him with an attempted reassurance on her face. "Don't trouble the other staff on my account."

"Well," he insisted, "at the very least, let  _me_ come by at some point and be of assistance to you."

Grace nodded, "You  _are_ the boss, sir." She almost chuckled, it was funny to hear him asking  _her_ permission to help her with some business. But, her amusement only got so far as a small smile.

They didn't speak any longer, the day demanded to begin.

The Asp had taken Annie out for the day to see the Empire State Building, while Punjab was with Miss Farrell, overseeing the interviews, and Oliver had locked himself in his office as his telephone rang off the hook. Mr. Warbucks currently found himself without a bodyguard, but he was no longer top priority around the mansion. With a bounty on Annie's head, the Asp certainly needed to be with her. Moreover, money brought out the absolute worst in people, meaning that Punjab needed to be with Miss Farrell during the interviews should her safety be compromised. And it was. Several times.

You never knew who might come through the door, and Punjab and her had dealt with many people who'd let money get the better of them. In fact, a few people had come armed and ready to threaten whoever was standing in the way of them and that reward. Had Punjab not been there, Grace would likely have been dead a dozen times over. This was something that she knew she would  _not_ be telling Mr. Warbucks about, and Punjab seemed to wordlessly understand that.

She knew that it would only cause Oliver unwanted and unnecessary stress and worry, he likely wouldn't even have her conducting any more of the interviews, which would be nothing short of an unfortunate setback. He would step in and perform them himself, and he simply was not as efficient nor as patient as she.

But, Oliver witnessed firsthand what Grace had wanted him to remain blissfully unaware of.

Later that day, he had kept his promise to show up and give her a hand during the interviews. It was around five in the afternoon, the sun was threatening to set outside, and Oliver realized that he didn't have any more work that he could possibly do without his secretary at his side. Knowing this, he decided to go to hers.

To his utmost horror, he observed a scene unfold before him as he stood in the doorway that he never wished to see. It all seemed to happen at once, and he certainly hadn't been expecting it. Though, in hindsight, he kicked himself when he realized that he should have known better. Grace had been conducting an interview with a seemingly normal couple when, out of nowhere, the man pulled out a handgun and aimed it straight at her face.

"Listen here, lady." He began, certainly neurotically, "You'll give me that reward or you won't live to see another day!"

Oliver stood gaping in the doorway as he watched Grace calmly nod towards the bodyguard standing at the opposite end of the room, "Punjab." She stated, so casually that Oliver couldn't help but fear she'd grown accustomed to such incidents throughout the course of the past two days. Punjab swiftly moved towards the man and disarmed him, knocking the gun out of his hand - as if it was something that he'd been doing all day - before removing the belligerent couple from the room and into police custody. 

" _Miss Farrell_ -" Oliver stated breathlessly, and Grace was surprised to see him as he quickly moved to her from the threshold. She bit her lip upon realizing that the secret was out - her life was indeed in danger. "Are you  _alright?"_ He asked in a voice that may or may not have been verging on panicked.

" _Yes,_ Mr. Warbucks," she said reassuringly, shaking her head as if it was nothing, "I'm fine. But, we really must be moving on to the next interview now or we'll be here all night."

Oliver cast aside her worried about something as trivial as  _time_ and began to interrogate her out of sheer concern. "Has this been happening  _regularly?_ People have been threatening you like that?"

"It's nothing to worry about, sir. Punjab has been here the whole time and you and I both know that he's more than capable of defusing these kind of situations." Grace insisted, but Oliver wasn't having it. Not when it came to her.

"Had I  _known_ that your  _life_ would be in danger over this, I never would have let you handle these interviews, Miss Farrell!" His concern came through in the form of misdirected anger, but Grace knew that very well and sent him an impatient look.

" _Sir,_ it  _really_ is nothing. But, we do have to get on with -"

" _Grace."_ He interrupted her pointedly and she finally sighed and gave in.

" _Oliver,"_ she hissed definitively, "I'm  _fine."_

After a brief pause in the room while the pair continued to fight using only their eyes, Oliver spoke once more. "Well,  _regardless_ of what  _you_ believe to be  _fine,_ _I'll_ be conducting the interviews from here on out."

Grace rolled her eyes, "Sir, that really isn't necessary." She argued, standing up from behind the desk. "Besides, if  _anyone's_ life is going to be jeopardized over this is surely shouldn't be yours!"

Professionally speaking, that should have been true. He was priority number one to where the bodyguards were concerned and when it came to safety in this household. But, perhaps  _she_ was priority number one in  _his_ mind when it came to safety.

He waved away her comment and moved around her to take the seat that she'd previously been occupying. "I'm staying in the room." She said, leaving no room for argument as she sat down in the chair beside him and spoke quickly before he could object. "Two sets of eyes and thoughts will be better than one, we can't afford room for mistakes."

Oliver sighed, having run out of arguments. She was right, of course, so they got to work quickly. Luckily, Punjab's quick reflexes weren't needed any longer and the rest of the night appeared to be going smoothly. That was, until Mr. and Mrs. Mudge showed up and turned everything on its head.

The day was finished, the sun had set hours ago, and everyone was about to turn in for the night after yet another unsuccessful day. Grace swivelled around in her chair to face Mr. Warbucks, who wore an equally defeated look on his face. They shared a look that revelled in the futile day that they'd had.

"Annie will be along soon." He stated simply, leaving her to fill in the blanks. They needed to regroup, to brace themselves to crush that hopeful look on the child's freckles face that they surely would be seeing in no time.

Grace sighed, "I just don't know what to tell her." Her voice was weak as she sank back in her seat, "If they haven't shown up yet, I doubt they ever will.."

Oliver had never seen such a hopeless side to his secretary, and it made him feel utterly uneasy. He supposed that he'd always considered her to be such an optimistic force to be reckoned with that he'd forgotten that she was merely human. They both were.

"Pardon the intrusion, Mr. Warbucks, Miss Farrell," Drake spoke suddenly, as he appeared in the doorway before them and interrupted their sober moment, "there's one more couple here to see you."

> _"We accept the love we think we deserve."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by Jane Austen and Stephen Chbosky.


	14. Chapter 14

> _"Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering."_

Oliver Warbucks had interviewed the alleged Ralph and Shirley Mudge  _meticulously_ from behind the mahogany desk in his sitting room. He was in search of something,  _anything_ really, that might prompt him to believe that they were lying through their teeth. But, once they pulled out the other half of that blasted rusty old locket right before Annie's eyes, the deal had been sealed.

Annie had finally felt the warmth of her mother's hug and stared her father in the eyes. And she felt nothing. In fact, it all felt wrong. She felt far maternally safer when Miss Farrell hugged her, and she certainly felt far more of a paternal bond when she spent time with Mr. Warbucks. But, the child steeled herself, this is what she'd always wanted. Of course it would take some getting used to, but she couldn't throw this opportunity away after so many years of pining.

Annie had declined her mother's eager help while packing up her things and looked to Miss Farrell instead, who followed her out of the room silently while Annie's parents took Sandy to their truck, leaving Mr. Warbucks to clench his fists and march back to his office, where he intended to get lost in a hearty glass of brandy, but had decided that work was an even better distraction than alcohol.

Meanwhile, Grace tried to keep her emotions checked while quietly helping Annie pack her old ragged dress into a suitcase and folding up all her new clothes to be taken back to the orphanage for the other girls as per Annie's request. As miserable tears relentlessly stung her eyes, she  _wished_ that she felt empty. She wished that the pain had caused her to go numb, it would have been a thousand times better than the utter desperation she was now feeling. And she so longed that Oliver was there with her, spending those last few minutes with Annie before she was gone forever. But, she knew him better than he knew himself, and she knew that he was likely already boarding up his walls and settling down with some all-consuming work.

The Oliver Warbucks that she'd spoken to that morning in the garden was gone, and in his place would be left nothing but a ghost of the man that he once was. Grace was losing Annie, but with her, she'd take with him Oliver Warbucks' heart and soul. She was losing both of them, tonight. She said goodbye to Annie through a tight hug that she wished would last forever, while Mr. Warbucks had managed to tear himself away from his stocks only momentarily to bid Annie goodbye with a shake of their hands, as if that was all that she'd meant to him.

An hour later, the night was well underway, but certain depressed members of the household were far from asleep.

Oliver had been on the phone, arguing over the fate of his Pittsburgh factory, when he'd heard a mildly concerning sound from outside his office door. Whomever had just been walking by, they'd dropped something likely ceramic. Glass had broken, not something the size of a window, but perhaps a cup of some kind. When he heard the familiar sigh that followed, Oliver too let out a dejected sigh and decided that it was time to quit hiding for the night.

Asking the manager on the opposite line to call him back tomorrow morning, Oliver dragged himself up from his leather chair and moved towards the door. He would have liked to avoid Grace Farrell forever more, but knew that his wishes were far from possible. Life had to go on, and it was better to get their first encounter following Annie's untimely departure out of the way before their feelings had any more time to sit with them.

Hearing a bit of shuffling from beside her, Grace looked to her left, to see Oliver Warbucks himself leaning in the doorway of his office, staring down at her as he witnessed the exact scene that he'd predicted he would. His private secretary was on her hands and knees, attempting to gather up all the shattered pieces of the teacup that she'd apparently just dropped to the floor.

"Oh," she exclaimed, once she saw that she was being watched, "Mr. Warbucks. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were still working." She apologized for the interruption that her broken glass had likely provided him with, knowing full well how the man liked to be left in peace while he was trying to work.

Oliver said nothing at all, but offered her a hand up when she'd finished collecting what remained of her teacup. Well,  _his_ teacup, actually. They shared a pained moment of silence, simply staring into each other's eyes as if they were having a silent conversation all on their own, before Oliver sighed for what must have been the hundredth time that evening and looked away, taking the broken pieces of her cup from her hands and tossing them in a trash can just inside the doorway.

He knew that they needed to talk, he knew that they were both experiencing similar symptoms of grief and loss, and he knew that there were certain things that simply  _needed_ to be acknowledged. Knowing this, he turned back towards her, and could no longer ignore the tears that were clearly threatening to grace her beautifully expressive blue eyes. "Miss Farrell," he began, his voice softer than usual but still as strong as ever, "I'm afraid I don't know what to say."

He'd never been so keen on words, so where his verbal cues tended to fail him, he liked to turn to actions. In this case, he cast her a pained look of understanding and took her hands in his, hoping to make up for the words that he could not speak. "You really don't need to say anything at all, Mr. Warbucks." He could tell simply by the masking tone of her weak voice that she was attempting to appear more confident and collected than she truly was. He wished that there was a way that he could tell her that she didn't need to do that around him, but he didn't know how to do so without crossing those lines that he so liked to safely abide by.

Grace timidly wiped at her eyes before turning to stare at him with such a genuineness behind her eyes that Oliver was nearly brought to his knees. "I truly just can't thank you enough for everything." Oliver was taken aback by her statement, but she continued before he could ask whether or not she was clinically insane. "For letting Annie stay here in the first place and for finding her parents, it was all very generous of you, sir."

The shock of her statement caused Oliver to drop her hand and stared at her as if she was completely mad. He lowered his eyebrows, wondering for a second if she was joking before revealing a piece of his mind. "How can you possibly be  _grateful_ after all this?" He demanded, his anger now completely misdirected as his voice grew harsh.

"What do you mean?" Grace cocked her head, still peering at him in scrutiny.

Oliver gestured around himself, "Annie is  _gone,_ we're likely never to see her again, and you're  _thanking_ me?  _Forgive_ me for not following you!" He entered his office again now, hoping to leave her and her pathetically naive optimism outside, but he'd provoked something inside of her and she followed quickly behind him, her own temper threatening to be set off.

" _Sir,_ as painful as the shock of her initial departure may be for us right now, I wouldn't trade having Annie here even just for that short time for the  _world!_ And I don't believe for a second that you wouldn't either!  _We_ may not have gotten what we would have wanted out of it -  _selfishly_ wanted, I might add - but  _Annie_ did!" She failed to even take a breath as she began to berate her employer for such self-absorbed thoughts. "She's  _happy_ now, this is everything that she's ever  _dreamed_ of, and  _we_ made this happen for her! I can  handle the pain if it means that Annie is  _finally_ truly happy!"

Their conversation had certainly morphed into an unnecessary argument. It wasn't ideal, but the two of them both needed to get their emotions out somehow, and if that meant through a heated argument, then so be it. "How can you be so  _impossibly_ selfless about this whole thing? It's  _infuriating!"_ Oliver's legs took him all the way through his office and out onto the patio, where the cold autumn night's air hit him sharply.

Hot on his heels, Grace continued to chastise. "It's not  _impossibly_ selfless to simply want the best for someone!" She could tell that she was about to take things once step too far, to say things that she couldn't take back, but there was no stopping her tonight. "Even _you_ would know that _,_ if you weren't so completely against  _emotion_ and  _care_ of any kind!" The minute that the words came out of her mouth, she had a feeling that she would eventually be regretting them, but not right at that moment. She was on a roll, they both were, in fact.

Oliver slowly turned around to face her, the look in his eyes suggested that he would be showing no remorse thanks to the harsh words that she had so inappropriately spoken. "I beg your pardon?" He demanded, though his voice was chillingly steady and far colder than she'd heard in a very long time. She would have taken his bursts of impatient shouting any day over the haunting hostility in his now deceivingly calm tone. But, Grace was in far too deep to turn around, now. Knowing this, she decided that the least she could do was say everything that she needed to say, if she was already past the point of no return, she'd better make every word count.

" _Forgive_ me, sir," the tone of her voice didn't in turn provoke much  _forgiveness_ of any kind from her boss, "but it's not  _unapparent_ to me that you don't have much experience in the field of admitting your true feelings." Oliver's frown deepened, though she hadn't thought it was possible. He wondered how  _dare_ she throw that in his face. "You may act like  _I'm_ the only one who truly cared for Annie and that  _I'm_ the only one thoroughly affected by her departure, but I know just as well as you do that you've grown awfully fond of her as well. So, before you turn to stone and revert back to your own selfish and uncaring ways, you may want to consider the fact that I've  _seen_ you care for Annie, and that I  _know_ that there's no truth to your bitter,  _antagonistic_ mask!"

She's said too much, and her words now lingered in the cool, silent air between the two of them as they glared at each other. They may as well have been circling each other like animals at a watering hole, baring teeth and searching for weaknesses. " _Miss Farrell_ , I do hope you realize just  _who_ you're talking to." He'd attempted to use his position above her to make her feel small, to provoke her to bite her tongue and beg for his forgiveness as anyone else in their right mind would have done. As she  _herself_ would have done had they been having this argument months ago.

Instead, Grace Farrell insisted on digging herself a hole.

"Yes,  _Oliver,_ as a matter of fact, I  _do!"_ Her own voice was louder now, as she forgot her place and used his first name without even considering the consequences. Luckily, neither of them really even noticed her slip up, as it was soon followed by one of his own and the playing field was evened once again. She took a daring step closer to him, he was surprised that she wasn't pointing a threatening finger at him and shoving it right into his selfish chest. "I'm speaking to a  _rich,_ arrogant, and  _selfish_ man who possesses the ability to cast me aside and out of his employment forever!" She began to pace around the balcony, "A  _tyrant_ billionaire with a  _cold_ heart whose only  _true_ passion in life is making money!"

" _Grace,_ I don't think _you_ -" He shouted, hoping to put an end to her insubordination once and for all, but she cut him off before he could even attempt to reprimand her.

"I'm  _not_ finished!" She stopped pacing and took in his dumbfounded expression. Never in his life had Oliver Warbucks been treated with such disobedience by anyone, and by a mere  _employee_ no less! Had it been anyone else, he would have walked away and ordered her immediate removal off his property and out of his life. But, this was personal, they both understood that, even if it was masked by their professional relationship. "Of course,  _I_ know better than all that!"

Her words could have turned soft, her eyes could have melted and she could have taken his face in her hands as she spoke her next revelation. Instead, her possibly  _kind_ words were practically spat at him through her gritted teeth. "I  _know_ that on the outside, you  _insist_ on maintaining such a cold front in order to cover up the fact that you were once a man who cared  _too_ much. But, I also  _know_ for a fact that you care for Annie just as much as I do, and I  _saw_ just how  _angry_ it made you when you realized how  _much_ you liked her! But, frankly it's nothing but selfish and  _cruel_ to keep your genuine care and concern for other people so  _hidden_ the way that you do! It's no way to live, Oliver!"

He tried to turn away from her, sick of her blatant disrespect, but she placed a hand on his arm in order to prevent him from doing so. Though, she almost wished she hadn't, because then she surely wouldn't have had to witness the utter  _hatred_ in his eyes. Nonetheless, she was determined to see this through. "So, you can pretend not to care all you want, and you can fight the pain with anger, and you can shut  _me_ out and bury the both of us in work to your heart's desire! But, just  _know_ that  _I_ see right through you, Oliver Warbucks. You can't hide from your emotions forever, but you can't hold the fact that Annie's longed for her parents forever against her! You can't force yourself to hate me for bringing here and her for leaving!"

She truly did see right through him, but the anger that Oliver now felt towards the woman standing before him in that moment managed to darken his eyes. He would realize later that he was not angry at her for acting so very out of line, he was mad at her for being  _right._ To her credit, Grace managed to stare right into her menacing boss's icy stare, though she felt her blood run cold and her knees go weak in sudden fear of retribution. Whatever it was that she was seeing in his eyes at that moment in time, she'd never seen before, and she didn't like it one it.

"Miss Farrell," his smoothly threatening voice managed to send a chill down her spine, "have you gone mad?" She did not appreciate the way that he refused to shout at her, nor even allow his voice to waver with any kind of emotion. He glared at her as if she was nothing more than an inconvenience, and she feared that the steadiness in his voice was masking an anger far greater than any he'd experienced before.

Grace's vision darted almost frantically between his two eyes, and she remained quiet, taking a slight step backwards away from him before Oliver continued. "Because, you certainly don't seem to realize just what you've said to me."

"I..." Grace began, but her voice now wavered in slight fear as everything began to come back to her, "... I meant every word I said, Mr. Warbucks." She whispered, and Oliver shoved his hands angrily into his pockets, taking a step closer to allow her to see the anger in his eyes.

"In that case,  _Miss Farrell,"_ he spat out her name, "I don't know why you're still  _daring_ to stand here in front of me."

She wanted to run, she wanted to flee this toxic space and take cover, but her legs weren't working properly. Her mind was telling her to run, her heart was telling her to throw herself into his arms and express all of her sadness to the one man that she knew might be able to help her though it. And therefore, her bodily movements got caught in the crossfire, and were now seemingly powered down for the time being. Either that, or she was frozen in place out of her own sheer terror. When her stunned silence made it clear that she was not about to speak any time soon, Oliver continued.

"You have no  _right_ to speak to me in such a defiant manner, have you  _completely_ forgotten yourself?"

Now, Grace didn't regret her words one bit, but she was beginning to feel a bit of remorse for just how harshly they had come out. Perhaps he was right, maybe she  _had_ lost her mind. She certainly had forgotten her place as a mere secretary at the Warbucks mansion. "I..." she began, taking another tentative step back with widened eyes, "... I..."

"That will be  _all,_ Miss Farrell." Oliver demanded, in a tone that he had never taken with her before. It was not quite irritated, not merely impatient, and it certainly went beyond anger. It was  _hatred._ He glared at her in unforgiving vexation as she took in a shuddering breath before turning from him and leaving the room with as much dignity as her shaky legs could allow her.

> _"You can't blame gravity for falling in love."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by Nicole Krauss and Albert Einstein.


End file.
